PI 

.^if.-..-;«iiii(i 


HAITIANS 


JUN6LE 


Yield  to  Smiles  Where 
Armed  Force  Fails. 

BY   EYE  WITNESS. 

.  MARC,  Haiti,  Dec.  3.— [By  Mail.]  ' 
seeing  is  not  believing  in  this 

land.  * 

is   because   trie   native  will   one  | 
.surrender  to  his  frantic  passions,!1 
•-iaJly  if  he  be  one  in  a  mass,  and1' 
ier  time,  perhaps  within  the  same 
:   hour,    he   will   make   himself   en-'1 
trancing  by  play  acting  what  he  thinks 
or  suspects  you  would  like  to  see. 

if  he  be  of  the  inferior  class, 
he  is  pretty  sure  to  think  that  what 
t!ic  white  man  does  on  a  given  occa- 
-s;on  is  the  right  thing  to  do,  or-  at 
least  the  appropriate. 

Amid  this  smallpox  epidemic  we  are 
ai;  being  vaccinated — and  revaccinated, 
for  the  points  sent,  to  the 
Vorn  the  states  seem  to  be  in- 
or  the  proportion  of  "  takes  "  is  | 
:at  it  should  be. 
She  Was  Stok-;  80  Were  They. 

:yian  woman  sent  for  her  serv- 
es to  b  •  vaccinated  with  her.    When 
e   physician    reached   her.  villa,   they 
•1  that  .-ho  did  not  wince  when 
-t  wus  thrust  beneath  her  skin 
iey  took  the  puncture  with  equal 
fjuanimity. 

"•This  was  not  due  to  their  relative 

c    of    sensitiveness    to    pain "    the 

.'Oman's    husband    said,    "for    if    Ga- 

brieile    had   winced    or    cried    out    the 

would    have    rung    with    their 

In  short,  th...  Haitian  is  precisely  like 
of   his,   with   its  tottering 


els  within   th<->  shadow  of  its  huge 
••••Jral,  its  women  bath- 
(entries 


French  villas  worthy  of  St.   Quentin, 
but  from_  the  long  windows  of  which 

|  you  see  vistas  which  could  be  picture 
in  an  encyclopedia  as  "  Typical  Nati\ 
Village  in  the  Congo." 

Rare  Contrasting  Types. 

In  your  walks,  however  brief,  an 
they  will  be  brief  in  this  heat,  you  se 
the  Haitian  of  the  squatting  postui 
with  his  numerous  and  naked  famil 
gathered  with  him  round  the  sing! 
bowl  from  which  all  partake,  and  yo 
see  the  suave,  informed  Haitian  wr. 
swings  his  cane  like  a  Parisian  dand 
and  can  intelligently  discuss  interns 
tional  politics. 

The  complexity  of  almost  ever 
Haitian  situation  la  due  in  part  to  th 
fact  that  the  squatting  Haitian  ar 
the  Haitian  who  would  pass  muster  o 
the  boulevards  frequently  manlfei 
v .  ch  other's  qualities. 

i  fact,  the  Haitian  in  the  mass  is 
curious  but  not  mystifying  combin 
tion  of  valor  and  jabber,  of  fidelity  ar 
childish  petulance,  of  fortitude  at 
helplessness,  and  of  gentleness  and  f 
rocity. 

Can't  Handle  His  Liberty. 

He  has  fought  and  bled  for  liber 


and  won  it,  But  in  its  practical  app 
cation  liberty  means  nothing  truly  b 
neficent  in  his  scheme  of  life,  becaut 
he  has  no  sense  of  the  reciprocal  ob 
gation  which  liberty  involves. 

The  Haiftan's  punctillio  is  acut 
even  among  the  humble  people.  1 
call  a  man  a  liar  is  a  deadly  insu 
Instead  of  that,  you  must  say,  "  Yc 
are  speaking  lies."  He  will  shrug  h 
shoulders  and  reply,  "  What  else  cou 
I  say."  Furthermore,  if  you  lie  to 
Haitian  you  might  as  well  get  off  tl 
island,  yet  he  will  cheerily  lie  to  yo 

To  say,  "  Be  quiet,"  or  "  Shut  up," 
a  noisy  servant  is  a  violation  of  h 
personal  liberty  and  he  will  reply,  " 
a   free   country   we    have   a   right 
talk." 

Smiles  Win  Natives. 

These  people  cannot  be  driven,  b 
they  can  be  managed  into  doing  almo 
anything.  A  smile  and  a  hearty,  frlen 
ly  word  are  gold  coin  in  this  islan 

There  is  an  American  up  St.  Ma 
way  who  early  in  his  work  among  t 
Haitians  said,  "  Whatever  they  do  ] 


smile.    Just  smile  however  much  they 
roil  me." 

He  is  big  and  burly  and  deep  voiced, 
bu,t  the  old  women  resting  along  the 
road  lift  their  withered  arms  and  cry, 
"  Oh,  mon  petit! "  when  Lisle  of  the 
railroad  company  gets  back  to  the 
island  from  New  York  after  one  of 
his  conferences  with  Farnum  of  the 
National  City  bank. 

Resume  of  Temperaments. 
These  notes  on  Haitian  characteris- 
*  tics  which  I  have  picked  up  from  many 
**      white  persons  long  resident  in  the  re- 
I  A   t  public     probably     over-emphasize   the 
(          worst  and  weakest  phases  of  the  na- 
>»  LJ  tional  character  and  do  not  sufficiently 
V/   I  stress  their  fidelity  to  the  firm  master, 
v     '  who,  if  he  is  self -respecting:,  also  com- 
mands their     respect,   their     civility, 
which   is    spontaneous   and   fine,   and 

(their  trustfulness,  which  is  so  unques 
tioning  that  it  is  a,  wicked  deed  to  be- 
tray it. 
And  today  the  attitude  toward  them 
of  those  who  know  them  best  Is  "  After 
all,  I  like  them  and  I  like  Haiti." 
So  do  I.     • 


RINA 

A.    SAFRONI-MIDDLETON 


IS 

FAITH  OF  HAITI, 
ADMIRAL  SAYS 


Kill  Humans,  Drink  Blood, 
Knapp  Reports. 


[BY    A   STAFF    CORRESPONDENT.] 
Washington,   D.   C.,   Dec.    14 
cial.]— That  95  per  cent  of  the  natives 
of  Haiti  believe  in  the  African  jungle 
faith  of  voodooism  which  requires  the 
sacrifice   of    human    beings    and    the 
drinking  of  human  blood  is  declared  by 
Rear  Admiral  H.  S.  Knapp  in  his  re- 
port to  the  secretary  of  navy  on  inves- 
tigation of  Haitian  conditions. 

Admiral  Knapp  cites  a  shocking 
case  of  the  trial  of  a  voodoo  priest, 
who  is  reported  to  have  killed  thirteen 
children,  whose  blood  was  drunk  and 
flesh  eaten  by  persons  present  at  the 
rites. 

"  Voodooism  is  prevalent,"  says  the 

admiral's  report,  "  and  the  further  one 

goes  from  the  coast  into  the  interior 

the    more    openly    is   voodooism    prac- 

Voodooism  is  essentially  snake 

'  worship    and    in    its    extreme    rites    it 

i  requires  the  sacrifice  of  human  beings 

and  the  drinking  of  their  blood  and  the 

eating  of  their  flesh. 

Orgies  at  Sacriflce.s. 

"  The   human   sacrifice   is   called   the 
i  '  hornless    goat.';    minor     sacrifices     of 
,  goats  are  made.     These  religious  cele- 
•ions,    if   the   word    'religious'    can 
.tpplied  to  such  affairs,   end  in  dis- 
graceful  orgies   of   debauchery.      It    is 
very  difficult,  of  course,  to  determine 
ijust   how   extensively    the    beliefs    are 


held    but   some   Haitians    themselves 
have  asserted  that,  probably  95  per  csr 
'of  the  total  population  believ< 
dooism  to  a  greater  or  less  exent. 

"  Of  course,  the  contrary  is  strom 
held  by  apologists  for  the  Haitian  char- 
acter    It  seems  certain,  however,  tl 
whether  it  be  the  effect  of  voodooism 
or  not,  the  average  Haitian  is  strongly 
superstitious— superstitious    with    t 
superstitions  of  the  jungle.  He  is  afn 
of  the  evil  eye,  or,  as  it  is  called  here 
the  '  ouanga,'  and  stands  in  great  i 
of  the  voodoo  priests  and  priestess 
It  is  also  believed-  the  educated  classes 
are  not  free  from  much  of  this  super 
stition,  even  where  they  deny  belief 
or  the  existence  of  voodooism. 

Voodoo  Followers  Feared. 
-Haitian  officials  high  in  place  will 
not  take  action  against  persons  ac- 
cused of  voodooism,  whether  because 
of  their  own  belief  in  it  or  because  of 
fear,  born  of  their  own  knowledge  c 
the  extent  to  which  voodooism  is  prev- 
alent among  the  population  or  of  incur- 
ring enmities.  A  voodoo  priest  has 
been  lately  tried  and  sentenced,  and 
the  proceedings  of  the  military  com- 
mission are  now  in  Washington  await- 
ing action. 

"  This  man  is  said  to  have  killed,  at 
,one  time  or  another,  thirteen  children, 
whose    blood    was    drunk    and    whosi 
flesh  was  eaten  by  persons  present  : 
the  rites.    The  practice  of  similar  voo 
doo    rites    is    confidently    believed 
those  most  familiar  with  the  situaticv- 
in  Haiti  to  be  not  unusual  in  the  i 
mote  places,  although  it  is  very  d:ffi 
cult  to  obtain  any  positive  evidence  ir 
corroboration.  -. 


SESTRINA 

A  ROMANCE  OF  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 


BY 

A.     SAFRONI-MIDDLETON 

AUTHOR  OF  "  SOUTH   SEA   FOAM." 


Life  \s  our  death  :    We  dream  reality. 

Imagination  is  Omnipotence, 

Some  image  of  a  bright  eternity 

Flashed  on  Tune's  mirror  from  the  Mind,  Immenst: 

'Twill  be  reshaped  from  all  that  madness  seemt 

Into  immortal  beauty  of  new  dreaina  I 


NEW        >j    YORK 
GEORGE  H.  DORAN  COMPANY 


PRINTED  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA 


SESTRINA 


CHAPTER  I 

A  dusky  maid  stood  'neath  a  lone  palm  tree 

Down  Makewayo  beach,  on  Savaii  Isles  ; 

A  perfect  shape  and  curved  lips  had  she 

As  stared  her  bright  eyes  o'er  the  lone  sea  miles  ; 

Maids  have  grown  old,  brave  men  seen  their  best  day, 

But  she  was  made  of  terra-cotta  clay  — 

In  beauty  by  the  sea  still  stands  and  smiles  / 

SWEET  is  woman  clad  in  modest  smiles  and 
grass  !  " 

The  speaker,  Royal  Clensy,  was  an  ardent  dreamer, 
romanticist  and  mystic.  He  did  not  wear  a  flowing 
robe  or  seer's  beard,  he  was  simply  a  handsome  young 
Englishman  attired  in  a  serge  suit,  wearing  a  topee  as 
he  leaned  against  the  stem  of  a  palm  tree.  And  had  our. 
hero  have  been  able  to  express  his  opinions  in  distin- 
guished poetic  style,  instead  of  in  the  crude  phrase  which 
opens  this  chapter,  it  is  an  extremely  dubious  point  as  to 
whether  he  would  ever  have  been  awarded  the  Nobel 
Prize  for  Vers  Libre.  However,  though  Clensy  was 
ambitious,  he  was  quite  devoid  of  pretence,  which  was 
as  well  since  competition  seems  keen  wherever  one  goes. 

"  Cah  !  Cah  !  Cah  !  Too  whoo  Ha  He  !  "  said  a 
second  voice.  It  was  the  voice  of  wisdom,  the  philo- 
sophy of  the  ages  was  expressed  on  the  wrinkled  brow, 
in  the  solemn  bright  eyes  and  on  the  shining  grey  and 
crimson  striped  homespun  suit,  as  away,  in  its  own 
private  aeroplane,  it  sailed  over  the  palms  —  out  of  this 
story  !  It  was  a  full-blooded  native  of  the  Marquesas 
Isles  —  a  cockatoo  ! 


6  SESTRINA 

The  first  speaker,  who  still  stood  under  a  palm  by  the 
lagoons,  swished  his  hand  and  scattered  the  swarm  of 
sandflies  that  buzzed  before  his  eyes  obstructing  his 
curious  gaze  at  the  pretty,  symmetrical  brown  maid  who 
glided  under  the  palms  and  then  vanished !  It  was  a 
common  enough  sight  to  see  a  modest  maid  or  youth  clad 
only  in  smallest  green  attire  stitched  on  by  invisible  stiff 
grass  thread,  run  from  the  village  doorways  into  another 
hut  opposite.  It  was  a  sight  to  sweep  a  dreamer's 
reflective  mind  into  the  golden  age  of  Eden's  fountains 
before  the  Tree  of  Knowledge  upset  the  innocence  and 
beauty  of  the  first  sylvan  shades.  And  oh,  the  prevail- 
ing terrific  heat,  and  the  cooltiess  suggested  by  such  art- 
less attire.  True  enough  the  glowing  tropic  heat  had 
its  drawbacks  on  those  Isles.  But  Old  Dame  Nature 
toiled  on,  patiently  and  artlessly  for  art's  sake,  devising 
suitable  clothes,  mysteriously  sewing  and  stitching  won- 
derfully hued  patterns  and  greenest,  cheapest  materials 
for  her  artless  children.  And  what  a  fascinating  code  of 
morals  was  hers  !  An  ill-timed  sneeze  before  the  altar, 
and  the  dusky  bride's  wedding-robe — her  mass  of  shining 
hair — lo,  became  disarranged,  and  made  the  amorous 
chiefs  sigh.  How  awful ! 

No  wonder  the  young  Englishman  meditated  pro- 
foundly and  continued  his  preposterous  reflections : 
"  Who  knows,  I  mav  have  been  happier  had  I  have  been 
born  here,  in  Temeroka  village,  within  sounds  of  the 
tribal  drums  instead  of  the  chimes  of  Bow  Bells."  He 
gazed  down  on  his  much  worn  boots  and  wondered  what 
would  happen  when  they  fell  off !  "  How  on  earth  can 
I  ever  get  them  re-soled  and  heeled  here,  on  Isles  where 
men  and  women  wipe  their  noses  on  sweet-scented  leaves, 
where  the  highest  social  society  discuss  morals  and 
politics  as  they  somersault  in  these  shore  lagoons.  Truly, 
a  sylvan utopia  of  fierce  happiness  and  clotheless  modesty. 
God's  finest  sculptural  art  done  in  smooth  terra-cotta 
clays,  sun- varnished,  finished  off  with  muscular  curves, 
ind,  to  say  the  least,  picturesque  feminine  outlines  as 


SESTRINA  7 

folk  roam  under  these  coco  palms."  Our  hero's  reflec- 
tions did  him  credit,  nothing  was  truer.  Even  the  first 
wonder  over  creation  seemed  to  gleam  in  the  eyes  of 
those  wild  peoples.  Only  one  odious  odour  disturbed 
the  rich  scents  of  tropic  flowers.  It  came  from  the  copra 
•sheds  round  the  bend  of  the  bay,  by  the  primitive  wharf 
where  a  fore-and-aft  schooner  lay.  It  was  at  that  spot 
where  beggared  tattooed  chiefs  and  melancholy  kings 
and  queens  of  fallen  dynasties  cracked  nuts  ready  for 
the  extraction  of  suspicious  looking  fats  to  smear  on  the 
artificial  breadfruit  and  well-combed  smooth  hair  of 
civilised  Man  !  0  world  of  inscrutable  mystery  ! 

"  'Ow  gloryhus  is  rum,  woman  and  coconuts !  " 
grunted  a  third  voice.  Our  hero  was  not  startled.  It 
was  the  voice  of  one  of  a  noble  lineage,  that  presumably 
dated  back  to  Bacchus  down  in  Thebes.  It  was  none 
other  than  Beer  de  Beer  Adams  who  spoke  thus.  It's 
a  crying  shame  to  have  to  introduce  such  a  character  to 
polite  society.  He  would  never  have  entered  these 
pages,  but  for  the  fact  that  he  stood  by  Royal  Clensy 
that  day.  Adams  was  a  derelict  sailorman.  Even  aa 
he  spoke  he  conclusively  proved  how  unfit  he  was  to 
enter  the  society  of  the  humblest  pages  of  polite  litera- 
ture, except,  perhaps,  as  a  character  of  the  most  menial 
position — lo,  he  pursed  his  vulgar  lips  and  sent  a  stream 
of  filthy  tobacco  juice  across  the  line  of  Clensy's  vision. 
But  what  cared  our  hero  ?  He  was  young !  twenty 
years  of  age ! 

As  this  script  will  probably  be  the  only  serious, 
authentic  record  of  Clensy's  life  from  that  time  when  he 
left  Hiva-oa  on  a  schooner  for  the  South  American  coast, 
to  arrive  eventually  at  Port-au-Prince,  Hayti,  it  will  be 
as  well  to  let  the  uninformed  know  something  about  his 
mode  of  life  at  the  date  when  he  met  Adams.  It  will 
be  sufficient  to  say  that  Clensy  had  been  roaming  about 
the  various  isles  of  the  Marquesan  group  for  three 
months  before  he  decided  to  go  farther  afield.  Adams 
was  a  destitute  drunken  reprobate — and  he  looked  it. 


8  SESTRINA 

To  be  seen  in  his  company  was  sufficient  to  exclude  ona 
from  any  decent  society  that  might  exist  between  Terra 
del  Fuego  and  the  Coral  Sea.  Probably  that  is  why 
Clensy  cottoned  to  Adams  like  a  shot  when  he  first  ran 
across  him  in  Taiohae.  Clensy  was  out  to  see  the  world 
and  enjoy  the  vigorous  novelty  of  roughing  it ;  and 
Adams  was  out  to  cadge  from  unsophisticated  young 
men.  (Adams  is  not  to  be  taken  as  a  specimen  of  an 
honest  South  Sea  shellback.)  As  for  Eoyal  Clensy,  he 
was  physically  perfect.  He  had  a  fine  brow,  and  eyes 
that  shone  with  the  light  of  a  gay  personality.  His 
mind  was  in  the  spongy  state  that  readily  absorbs  good 
and  bad  influences  ;  but  his  belief  in  the  goodness  of 
human  nature  sent  the  mud  to  the  bottom  of  the  living- 
waters  to  nourish  and  help  the  roots  of  the  lilies  grow 
in  the  summer  of  his  days.  His  temperament  was,  under 
sunny  conditions,  sanguine  and  decidedly  amorous. 
Anyone  who  knew  him  well  was  not  likely  to  die  of 
shock  were  they  suddenly  informed  that  he  had  eloped 
with  a  princess  or  a  pretty  serving  maid.  However, 
he  did  neither  of  these  things,  and  they  are  only  sug- 
gested to  help  explain  that  which  is  so  difficult  to 
explain — temperament.  Like  all  men  who  have  good 
in  them,  he  was  his  own  godly  priest,  and  instinctively 
knelt  at  the  altar  of  his  own  secret  faith  to  confess  his 
sins  to  a  remorseful  conscience.  Consequently  his  re- 
ligion was  sincere  and  quite  devoid  of  hypocrisy.  He 
was  bound  to  improve  with  time,  as  the  mud  settled 
down,  and  the  lilies  took  firm  root.  So  much  for 
Clensy's  embryo  sins  and  virtues.  This  gay  young 
Englishman  was  of  good  birth  ;  that  was  certain.  Earlier 
incidents  connected  with  his  life  cannot  be  given. 
Whether  on  first  entering  into  the  light  of  mundane 
things  he  was  bottle  or  breast-fed,  or  was  reared  in 
suitable  surroundings  for  so  erratic  a  temperament,  is 
immaterial.  It  can,  however,  be  relied  upon  that  he 
was  born  as  he  was,  inheriting  all  those  peculiarities 
which  made  him  solely  responsible  for  the  drama  of 


SESTRINA  9 

passion  that  put  his  life  out  of  joint  before  he  was 
twenty-one  years  of  age.  All  wise  men  agree  that 
temperament  is  the  ruling  passion  that  controls  man's 
actions,  all  impulses  good  or  bad,  be  they  successfully 
curbed  or  blazed  before  an  admiring  or  shocked  world, 
as  the  case  may  be.  Adams  swallowing  rum  or  gassing 
Royal  Clensy  with  smoke  from  his  filthy  clay  pipe,  was 
Adams  proper  ;  and  Clensy  standing  beneath  the  coco 
palms  staring  with  serious  eyes,  wondering  what  would 
become  of  him  should  his  people  not  soon  send  his 
remittance,  was,  and,  without  a  libellous  statement  on 
the  reputation  of  his  great  natural  mother,  Dame 
Nature,  none  other  than  the  legitimate,  handsome,  sun- 
tanned inconsequential  Royal  Clensy. 

Instead  of  Clensy  being  shocked  over  Adams's  wicked 
yarns  and  disgusted  to  see  a  man  squirt  tobacco- juice 
with  such  marvellous  precision  over  his  shoulder,  he 
stared  his  admiration  of  such  vulgarity,  and  then  roared 
with  laughter. 

"  So  yer  wants  ter  git  to  ther  coast  of  Sarth  America, 
do  yer  ?  "  said  Adams.  Then  he  added.  "  Look  ye 
here,  Myster  Clensy,  you're  a  young  gent,  anyone  can 
spot  that  by  the  cut  of  yer  jib.  Aid  anyones  who 
knows  me,  knows  I'm  ther  man  ter  be  an  honest  fren' 
and  guide  ter  yer." 

"  You  really  do  seem  a  good  sort,"  responded  Clensy 
as  he  tugged  the  little  tip  of  his  virgin  moustache  and 
looked  critically  at  Adams's  wrinkled,  semi-humorous, 
rum-stricken  countenance.  Then  Clensy,  summing  up 
his  inward  thoughts,  murmured  to  himself :  "  You  look 
like  a  hardened  old  sinner  to  me,  blessed  if  you  don't." 

Adams  who  only  saw  the  distinct  surface  of  things, 
thought  he  had  made  a  fine  impression.  He  rolled  hia 
solitary  eye  (he  had  lost  his  right  eye  during  a  brawl 
in  a  heathen  seraglio,  New  Guinea)  and  said  :  "  So 
you're  a  remittance  man,  and  want  ter  git  ter  a  plyce 
wheres  yer  can  'ave  the  spondulicks  sent  ?  " 

Clensy  nodded,  and  said,  "  I  want  to  get  to  Acapulco, 


10  SESTRINA 

on  the  South  American  coast,  my  uncle's  British  Consul 
there." 

"  'Is  E  indyed !  "  gasped  Adams  as  he  at  once  ob- 
sequiously began  to  brush  an  imaginary  speck  of  dust 
from  Clensy's  shoulder.  Visions  of  coming  affluence 
loomed  before  his  solitary  eye. 

"  How  can  it  be  managed  ?  I  must  leave  this  place 
soon  or  I'll  be  dead  broke,"  said  Clensy.  Thereupon 
Adams  immediately  informed  the  young  Englishman 
that  the  French  tramp  steamer,  La  Belle  France,  was 
leaving  Hiva-oa  for  the  South  American  coast  with  a 
cargo  of  copra  in  a  few  days.  "  She  puts  into  Acapulco, 
so  the  thing's  done — if  yer've  got  the  cash  for  passages  ?  '* 
"  I  have,"  said  Clensy,  then  he  handed  the  sailorman 
a  sovereign  on  account. 

"  Leave  it  all  to  me,  I'll  get  passages  for  about  ten 
quid  each,"  said  the  old  reprobate  as  he  spat  on  the 
golden  coin  for  luck.  So  was  the  matter  settled  between 
them.  Two  days  after  that,  Adams  informed  Clensy 
that  he  had  managed  to  secure  berths  as  deck  passengers 
at  twelve  pounds  apiece.  He  watched  Clensy's  face, 
and  then  smiled  his  inward  delight,  for  he  had  made 
five  pounds  over  the  deal  with  the  skipper  of  the  La 
Belle  France.  Clensy,  who  guessed  that  he  had  secured 
berths  for  less  money  than  he  said,  made  no  remark. 
"  She's  sailing  day  after  termorrer,  so  we'd  better 
go  and  say  good-bye  to  our  fren's  on  the  islets  tother 
Bide  ;  agreed  ?  " 

And  so  Clensy  agreed  to  go  to  the  neighbouring  isle  to 
say  good-bye  to  Adams's  old  friend,  the  widowed  queen, 
Mara  Le  Vakamoa.  "  You  must  see  heathen  royalty 
afore  you  leaves  these  islands,"  said  Adams. 

That  same  night  Adams  paddled  Clensy  in  a  canoe 
across  the  narrow  strip  of  ocean  that  divided  them  from 
the  isle  where  dwelt  several  pagan  kings  and  much- 
married  queens.  When  Clensy  arrived  at  the  unpalatial- 
looking  wooden  building  which  was  the  residence  of 
Queen  Mara  Le  Vakamoa,  much  of  the  glamour  which 


SESTRINA  11 

Adams's  description  of  native  royalty  had  conjured  up 
in  his  mind  faded.  They  only  stopped  one  night  and 
day  in  the  royal  village.  True  enough  the  queen  and 
high  chiefs  were  extremely  courteous  and  paid  great 
homage  to  the  noble  papalagai's  (white  men).  But 
though  Adams  was  in  his  element  when  in  the  company 
of  full-blooded  South  Sea  royalty,  Clensy  soon  sickened 
of  the  ceaseless  chattering  and  royal  display  of  limbs. 
The  fact  is,  that  the  queens  and  princesses  belonged  to 
an  ancient  dynasty,  and  had  long  since  passed  the 
zenith  of  their  beauty.  Even  Adams  screwed  up  his 
lean,  humorous-looking  mouth  and  took  in  a  deep  breath 
when  the  Queen  Vakamoa  opened  her  enormous  thick- 
lipped  mouth  and  gave  him  a  smacking  farewell  kiss. 
Then  Clensy,  too,  bowed  before  the  inevitable,  took  a 
large  nip  of  Hollands  gin  from  Adams's  flask,  and  saluted 
the  queen  likewise.  It  was  only  when  the  pretty  native 
girls  took  flowers  from  their  hair,  and  handed  them  to 
Clensy  as  they  murmured,  "  Aloah,  papalagi "  ;  that 
he  really  took  an  interest  in  the  farewell  ceremonies. 
Then  they  trekked  down  to  the  beach  and  paddled 
away  in  their  canoe.  It  all  seemed  like  some  weird 
dream  to  Clensy  as  Adams  chewed  tobacco  plug  and 
diligently  paddled  back  for  the  shore  lagoons  of  the 
mainland.  Night  had  swept  the  lovely  tropic  stars  over 
the  dusky  skies,  and  they  could  faintly  hear  the  musical 
cries  of  "  Aloah,  e  mako,  papalagi,"  as  they  faded 
away  into  the  ocean's  silence. 

Next  day  Adams  and  Clensy  went  aboard  the  La  Belle 
France  which  sailed  in  the  afternoon.  They  both  felt 
quite  depressed  as  they  watched  the  Marquesan  Isles 
fade  like  blue  blotches  far  away  on  the  western  horizon. 
Clensy  was  every  bit  as  depressed  as  his  comrade.  He 
had  thoroughly  enjoyed  his  three  months'  sojourn  in  the 
beautiful  archipelago  of  golden-skinned  men,  palms  and 
sylvan  valleys  shaded  by  breadfruits  and  coco-palms. 
He  had  also  been  well  liked  by  the  rough  traders  and 
shellbacks  whom  he  had  come  in  contact  with,  for  he 


12  SESTRINA 

had  often  gained  the  respect  and  affection  of  sunburnt 
men  from  the  seas  who  hated  snobs. 

The  voyage  to  the  South  American  coast  was  ex- 
tremely monotonous  to  Clensy.  Adams's  constant  com- 
panionship and  swashbuckling  deportment  on  the  dreary 
passage  across  tropic  seas  gave  Clensy  bad  intellectual 
spasms.  But  still,  he  patiently  tolerated  his  presence. 
He  probably  well  knew  that  Adams  too  had  his  place  in 
this  scheme  of  intelligent  things,  and  that  one  change  of 
a  footstep  at  the  beginning  of  Adams's  career  might 
have  made  him  a  splendid  Government  official  or  Con- 
troller, and  well  respected  by  all  who  didn't  know  him  ! 
The  fact  is,  that  Clensy  was  by  nature  a  genuine  demo- 
crat. He  was  well  bred,  and  so,  carelessly  unconscious 
of  his  worldly  advantages  over  the  uneducated  men  with 
whom  he  so  readily  consorted.  He  had  proper  pride, 
but  it  was  humble  enough.  His  head  did  not  swell  over- 
much. He  could  not  realise  that  when  he  was  wealthy, 
and  still  dined  side  by  side  with  penniless  shellbacks,  he 
was  doing  something  that  should  be  vigorously  blown 
from  the  highest  peak  on  democracy's  brass  bugle  so 
that  it  might  reverberate  and  echo  down  the  halls  of 
boasted  brotherhood.  His  nature  had  no  kinship  with 
the  great  boast  of  a  democracy  that  shouts  :  "  See  how 
our  millionaires  sit  by  the  side  of  the  wage-earning  cow- 
boy and  dine  on  beans  and  corn-cobs."  Thus  pointing 
out  to  all  who  can  see  and  hear,  how  wide  a  gulf  really 
divides  the  poor  man  from  the  eternal  boast  of  the  demo- 
cratic brotherhood.  In  short,  Clensy  was  a  splendid 
specimen  of  the  democratic-aristocrat  Englishman 
dwelling  under  the  great  socialistic  government  of  the 
human  heart.  His  intellect  was  fair  :  he  knew  that 
kings  could  feel  humble,  and  a  pope  be  really  religious. 
He  was  a  gentleman. 

Clensy  breathed  a  sigh  of  relief  when  he  sighted  the 
coast  of  South  America,  and  the  La  Bdle  France,  even- 
tually entered  the  ancient  bay  of  Acapulco.  But  he 
was  greatly  disappointed  when  he  discovered  that  his 


SESTRINA  13 

uncle  had  left  the  consulate  and  had  returned  to  Eng- 
land two  months  before  his  arrival.  "  We're  done  !  " 
said  Clensy  as  he  realised  that  he  would  have  to  wait 
quite  three  months  before  his  remittance  money  arrived 
from  England.  For  a  long  while  he  and  Adams  were 
on  their  "  beam-ends."  Clensy  had  a  few  pounds  which 
was  augmented  by  Adams's  musical  accomplishments. 
For  the  derelict  reprobate  would  go  off  on  his  own  and 
perform  on  his  wretched  accordion,  playing  to  the 
Mexican  storekeepers.  Sometimes  he  wrapped  an  old 
silk  robe  about  him,  and  putting  on  a  Spanish  hidalgo 
mein,  would  go  busking  outside  the  old-fashioned  home- 
steads of  Vera  Domingo.  So  did  he  help  Clensy  out  of 
his  predicament. 

In  due  course  Royal  Clensy's  remittance  arrived. 
Acapulco  was  a  quiet,  lazy  town  in  those  days.  The 
inhabitants  were  mostly  Spaniards,  Mexicans  and  niggers. 
Consequently  Clensy  made  up  his  mind  to  clear  out  of 
the  place  and  make  for  the  larger  states.  What  really 
happened  after  Clensy  received  his  remittance  whilst  in 
Acapulco  can  only  be  guessed  at.  Clensy  was  as  im- 
provident and  reckless  with  money  as  Adams,  so  it  is 
possible  that  they  had  a  pretty  good  time  while  the 
bulk  of  the  money  lasted.  The  only  thing  that  can  be 
recorded  with  certainty  is,  that  they  left  Acapulco  and 
made  their  way  to  Vera  Cruz,  and  eventually  arrived  by 
steamer  at  Port-au  Prince,  Hayti. 

"  It's  no  use  you  grousing,  Myster  Clensy,"  said 
Adams. 

"  I  suppose  not,"  replied  the  young  Englishman  as  he 
gazed  mournfully  on  the  dark  faced  population  of  the 
semi-barbarian  city  of  the  Black  Republic,  Port-au- 
Prince.  "  Reminds  me  of  what  I've  read  about  ancient 
Babylon  and  the  Assyrian  cities,"  said  Clensy  as  he 
watched  the  swarthy  Haytian  chiefs  and  handsome 
mulatto  women,  clad  in  yellow  and  blue  silken  robes, 
as  they  shuffled  along  the  stone  pavements  in  their 
loose  sandals.  Many  of  the  quaintly  robed  folk  stood  by 


14  SESTR1NA 

the  doorways  of  their  verandahed  weatherboard  homes 
conversing,  making  a  hushed  kind  of  hubbub  as  they 
muttered  and  stared  with  large  dark  eyes  at  Clensy  and 
Adams. 

"  What's  Babylony  and  Asyery  ter  do  with  it  ?  It 

b well  reminds  me  of  hell,  and  of  being  damned  'ard 

up,  it  do !  "  responded  the  unpoetical  ex-sailor. 

"  What  on  earth  shall  we  do  ?  We're  dead  broke  till 
my  remittance  arrives  again,"  reiterated  Clensy  as  he 
wiped  his  perspiring  brow  and  smiled  wearily  as  the 
pretty  Haytian  girl  passed  by  and  gave  him  a  languish- 
ing glance. 

"  Don't  you  worry,  myster,  the  only  thing  ter  do,  is 
ter  take  up  ter  the  buskin'  again,  but  I  can't  play  alone 
in  this  'ell  of  a  'ole,  I'll  p'raps  get  shot  by  one  of  these 
smut-faced  devils." 

"  Can't  play  alone !  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  said 
Clensy. 

"  I  simply  means  thet  you  must  stand  by  me,  and  see 
thet  I'm  unmolysted  by  these  ere  b 'eathens." 

"  Good  heavens,  have  I  come  to  this  !  "  moaned  our 
hero  as  he  once  again  wiped  his  brow  and  made  a  thousand 
good  resolutions  as  to  how  careful  he  would  be  when 
the  next  remittance  came  !  But  withal  Royal  Clensy 
was  game.  He  brushed  his  misgivings  away  and  smiled, 
and  thought,  "  Well,  I  suppose  I  must  adapt  myself  to 
circumstances  in  this  world  of  woe  and  tears."  Then 
he  came  to  the  sensible  conclusion  that  it  was  best  to 
cast  one's  pride  aside  when  the  digestive  apparatus 
made  pathetic  appeals  to  the  higher  senses. 

That  same  afternoon,  to  Clensy's  extreme  mortifica- 
tion, he  found  himself  standing  just  outside  the  presi- 
dential palace  at  Port-au-Prince.  "  It's  best  ter  ply 
before  people  who  'as  got  money,"  Adams  had  said, 
and  so  there  they  stood  as  Adams  opened  his  villainous 
mouth  and  wailed  out  "  Little  Ajinie  Rooney's  My 
Sweetheart "  to  his  vile  accordion  accompaniment. 
Clensy  gnashed  his  teeth  and  hid  his  perspiring  face  in 


SESTRINA  15 

his  silk  handkerchief  of  other  days  when  the  chorus 
came.  It  was  then  that  Adams  shuffled  his  feet  and, 
doubling  the  tempo  of  the  song,  danced  a  hideous  jig. 
"  God  our  help  in  ages  past,"  murmured  Clensy  in  an 
insane  way,  as  the  ebony-hued  population  swarmed 
around  them,  and  gazed  in  astonishment  at  the  one-eyed 
sailorman  as  he  played  on,  quite  unconcerned  and 
careless  of  Clensy's  anguished  feelings.  "  What !  you 
have  the  infernal  cheek  to  think  I'll  go  round  with  your 
coco-nut  shell  and  collect !  "  said  Clensy,  when  Adams 
calmly  stood  on  one  leg,  stopped  dancing,  and  intimated 
that  Clensy  might  make  a  "  whip  round."  "  Not  I. 
I'd  sooner  get  a  ship !  Why,  it's  bad  enough  to  hear 
you  make  that  damned  row,"  said  Clensy  angrily. 
Consequently  Adams  went  round  himself  with  the  shell. 
To  Clensy's  surprise,  when  Adams  had  passed  among 
the  crowd  of  onlookers,  and  had  come  back,  the  coco- 
nut shell  was  nearly  full  of  peculiar-looking  coins  that 
neither  knew  the  exact  value  of. 

The  Haytians  and  mulattoes  are  a  naturally  un- 
ostentatious folk  in  their  likes  aud  dislikes,  a  peculiar 
kind  of  calmness  pervading  their  most  deliberate  acts. 
One  cynical-looking  Haytian  chief  gazed  critically  into 
Adams's  collecting  calabash  as  he  once  more  went  round, 
and  dropped  a  dead  putrid  rat  inside  !  The  Haytian 
chief  was  evidently  not  feeling  exactly  partial  towards 
white  men,  and  chose  that  way  of  showing  his  resent- 
ment. 

"  For  heaven's  sake,  don't  get  ratty !  "  whispered 
Clensy  as  he  pulled  his  comrade's  coat-tail  and  gave  a 
warning  glance.  Fortunately  for  them  both,  Adams 
swiftly  realised  that  Clensy  was  generally  right,  and  so 
he  cooled  down  and  soothed  his  outraged  feelings  by 
swearing  at  the  Haytian  chief  in  the  choicest  Billings- 
gate English.  With  that  marvellous  precision  which 
brings  envy  to  the  hearts  of  foreign  sailormen  through- 
out the  world,  Adams  squirted  a  stream  of  tobacco- 
juice — splash  !  it  had  sent  a  dark  stain  down  the  length 


16  SESTRINA 

of  the  chief's  yellow  robe  as  he  stalked  majestically 
away.  Then  once  more  the  Cockney  sailorman  began  to 
play  and  sing. 

"  Wish  I'd  never  written  home  from  Acapulco  and 
given  an  address  at  this  hole  for  my  remittance  to  be 
sent  to,"  thought  Clensy.  His  heart  quaked  in  the 
thought  that  he  had  to  exist  by  aid  of  Adams's  musical 
accomplishments  for  nearly  two  months.  It  was  dread- 
ful !  But  it  was  only  a  momentary  spasm  of  deepest 
gloom  that  afflicted  our  hero.  Fate  is  kind,  in  a  way, 
to  mortals.  The  silver  lining  generally  appears  on  the 
cloud  when  the  day  seems  darkest ;  and  though  the 
cloud  may  be  charged  with  the  thunders  and  lightnings 
of  undreamed-of  future  storms  to  break  over  the  sanguine 
wayfarer's  head,  it  does  look  silvery  for  a  time,  and  so 
cheers  the  despondent  soul.  In  fact,  Eoyal  Clensy's 
thoughts  had  already  suddenly  leapt  into  another 
channel,  had  become  charged  with  warm,  sensuous 
feelings  that  had  blazed  into  existence  by  the  magic 
gleam  of  beautiful  eyes  !  Adams  had  just  finished  his 
last  song,  and  was  hand-pedalling  his  accordion  into  a 
thrilling  wail,  when  a  beautiful  Haytian  girl  ran  out  of 
the  open  gate  of  the  presidential  palace  and  stared  with 
evident  admiration  straight  in  Royal  Clensy's  sun- 
tanned handsome  face.  Then  she  stared  in  astonish- 
ment at  Adams's  accordion.  (Accordions  were  great 
novelties  in  Hayti  in  those  days.)  Clensy  blushed  to 
the  ears.  Her  eyes  shone  like  baby  stars  ;  her  hail 
tumbled  in  a  glittering  mass  around  her  neck,  rippling 
below  her  waist,  floating  in  artless  confusion  over  her 
neglige  attire — a  pale  blue  sarong.  Her  complexion 
was  of  an  olive  hue,  delicately  tinted  with  the  rosy  blush 
of  health,  like  the  complexion  of  a  fair  Italian  girl. 

"  What  cursed  luck !  Travelled  the  world  over  only 
to  meet  her  at  this  dire  moment,  outside  a  palace  busk- 
ing with  a  reprobate  like  Adams  playing  a  wretched 
accordion."  In  that  swift  realisation  of  his  degradation, 
Clensy  felt  atheistical.  He  could  have  turned  round 


SESTRINA  17 

and  screwed  Adams's  neck  till  the-xscoundrel's  spine 
snapped !  For  the  first  time  in  his  career  he  became  a 
child  of  modern  democracy.  A  great  wave  of  snobbish- 
ness overwhelmed  his  senses.  He  longed  to  turn  round 
and  shout  into  the  Haytian  girl's  ear  :  "  Behold  Me  ! 
the  son  of  wealthy  parents,  the  blood  of  great  ancestors 
flowing  in  my  veins,  yet  here  I  stand,  happy  in  the 
society  of  this  drunken  old  reprobate  and  his  damnable 
accordion."  Swiftly  recovering  from  his  embarrass- 
ment, he  made  a  courtly  bow.  The  girl's  lips  parted  in 
a  delicious  smile  as  she  daintily  imitated  Clensy's  salu- 
tation. It  was  most  fascinating.  The  palace  and  the 
surrounding  weatherboard  houses  seemed  to  fall  on  top 
of  Clensy's  head  as  the  girl  placed  a  coin  in  the  collection- 
box.  Then,  looking  into  Adams's  rum-stricken  face,  as 
he  still  sang,  she  said,  "  Oh,  monsieur,  you  have  gotter 
voice  !  " 

Clensy  whipped  his  handkerchief  out  and  wiped  his 
sweating  brow,  then  stared  again  and  gave  the  maid  the 
benefit  of  the  doubt.  "  That  can  be  taken  as  the 
reverse  of  a  compliment ;  the  girl  must  have  a  sense  of 
humour,"  he  thought.  As  for  Adams,  he  bit  the  coin 
with  his  blackened  teeth  to  assure  himself  that  it  was 
gold,  then  he  made  himself  look  as  awkward  as  a  frog. 
He  wasn't  going  to  be  outdone  by  a  whippersnapper  like 
Clensy.  Arching  his  back  as  though  the  world  of 
chivalry  weighted  it  he  bowed  too  !  The  next  moment 
an  elderly  negress  poked  her  frizzy  head  round  the  rim 
of  the  palace  gateway  and  said  in  a  squeaky  voice, 
"  Oh,  Madamselle  Sestrina,  ze  president,  your  father, 
wish  to  zee  you."  At  hearing  this,  the  girl  who  had  so 
impressed  Royal  Clensy  gave  a  silvery  peal  of  laughter 
and  ran  back  within  the  palace  gates.  Clensy  was  not 
so  much  to  blame  for  his  sudden  infatuation  for  the  girl 
who  had  appeared  before  him  and  had  then  vanished 
like  a  dream !  She  did  have  red  lips  that  looked  like 
smashed  pomegranates  formed  to  charm  men  to  taste. 
The  beautiful  morn  of  maidenhood  shone  on  her  brow ; 

B 


18  SESTRINA 

the  first  golden  streak  of  creation's  first  sunrise  seemed 
to  twinkle  in  the  ocean-like  depths  of  her  eyes.  Yes, 
Clensy  saw  her  as  woman  standing  on  the  threshold  of 
the  temple  of  Beauty,  her  loveliness  unconsciously 
inviting  some  one  to  come  and  worship  at  her  altar  as 
she  stared  over  those  visionary  seas,  seas  where  the 
shadows  of  the  unborn  children  sit  on  the  shore  reefs, 
singing  their  luring,  plaintive,  sunrise  songs  till  sad, 
wandering  men  pass  along !  Sounds  sentimental  and 
poetic  ?  Well,  Clensy  had  suddenly  become  strangely 
endowed  with  the  poetic  instinct.  And  so,  the  girl's 
maiden  beauty  had  presented  itself  to  his  mind  in  a 
highly  imaginative  form.  Beautiful  Sestrina,  President 
Gravelot's  daughter,  for  such  she  was,  had  fired  Clensy's 
brain  with  an  undying  passion,  had  unknowingly  made 
the  first  fateful  footstep  down  the  path  of  destiny  that 
was  to  lead  to  the  sad  drama,  the  terrible  catastrophe 
that  is  alone  responsible  for  this  story. 


CHAPTER  II 

O  mystery  that  made  the  frenzied  thug, 
And  winds  to  beat  the  frozen  sheep  : 
O  fates  that  did  conspire  to  make  a  bug 
To  haunt  sad  mortals  in  their  sleep  I 

1  "VT  ICE  gal,  that ! "  mumbled  Adams,  as  he  and  Clensy 

•1  ^1      hurried  a\*  ay  from  the  crowd  that  still  loitered 

before   the   presidential   palace.     They   quickly  made 

their  way  towards  the  palm-sheltered  portion  of  the 

dusty,  heat-stricken  city. 

"  Yes,  very  nice,"  responded  Clensy,  as  he  gazed 
vacantly  ahead,  hurrying  Adams  along  as  though  he 
sought  to  escape  from  his  own  embarrassment. 

"  I'd  loike  ter  marry  a  bootiful  crawture  like  'er.  Only 
one  fault  ter  find  about  'er — she  ain't  fat !  "  said  the 


SESTRINA  19 

eailorman,  as  lie  glanced  up  at  Clensy,  squinting  his 
solitary  eye  sideways,  like  a  curious  cockatoo. 

"  Hem !  "  was  Clensy 's  rejoinder,  as  he  threw  his 
shoulders  back  and  looked  the  other  way  to  hide  his 
cynical  disgust  from  Adams's  eye,  as  that  materialistic 
worthy  still  expressed  several  opinions  about  Sestrina's 
face  and  figure.  Anything  of  a  subtle  nature  in  Clensy's 
manner  or  talk  was  naturally  lost  to  such  an  intellect 
as  Adams  possessed,  and  so  the  sailorman  at  once 
changed  the  conversation.  "  E's  gone  off  agin,  in  one 
of  'is  balmy  moods  !  "  the  reprobate  murmured  to  him- 
self, then  he  added  aloud,  "  Hawful  'ot,"  and  pulled  his 
whiskers. 

"  Thank  God  it's  shady  here,"  said  Clensy,  as  they 
arrived  in  the  shades  of  the  beautiful  mahogany  trees. 
"  Let's  see  the  sights  of  the  town,"  said  Adams,  as  they 
stood  under  the  trees  and  gazed  on  the  little  streets 
and  the  long,  irregular  rows  of  quaint  wooden  houses. 

"  I'm  done  up,  nearly  dead  for  want  of  sleep,"  replied 
Clensy. 

"  Why,  I  feel  as  fresh  as  a  two-year-old !  "  growled 
Adams.  The  true  facts  are,  that  Adams  was  case- 
hardened  and  hadn't  spent  a  wretched  night  in  attempt- 
ing to  distract  the  attention  of  enormous  fleas  from  his 
person  as  poor  Clensy  had  done  in  the  low  lodging- 
house  bed  the  night  before.  The  Haytians  love 
company  in  bed,  and,  from  what  Clensy  could  see,  the 
price  of  a  bed  in  Hayti  was  increased  if  the  fleas  were 
lively  and  plentiful.  In  fact,  the  inhabitants  were  kind- 
hearted,  bohemian  folk  and  believed  in  the  merciful 
creed  of  live  and  let  live !  A  fact  that  was  well  illus- 
trated by  the  state  of  the  streets  in  Port-au-Prince. 
Adams  said  the  streets  were  worse  than  the  streets  in 
Shanghai  and  Hum-kow,  Tokio.  The  Haytians  do 
their  washing  in  a  tub  before  their  front  door,  and  hang 
their  clothes  on  lines  that  are  spread  from  one  side  of 
the  street  to  the  other,  tied  on  to  the  stems  of  the  palm- 
trees  that  usually  grow  on,  the  pavement  side.  It  was 


20  SESTRINA 

* 

a  quaint,  semi-poetic  sight  to  Clensy  as  he  gazed  at  the 
yellow,  crimson  and  white  lingerie  and  garments  of  both 
sexes  fluttering  to  the  caresses  of  the  hot  winds  :  wonder- 
ful drapery  placed  side  by  side  without  any  nice  dis- 
crimination as  to  the  modest  feelings  and  sensibilities 
of  those  who  passed  by !  Adams  looked  quite  jovial 
as  he  gazed  at  the  clothes-lines  and  made  critical  re- 
marks. The  undemocratic  Clensy  simply  looked  at  the 
filthy  streets  and  held  a  large  lump  of  camphor  to  his 
nostrils,  and  often  rubbed  some  on  his  moustache. 
Royal  Clensy  always  carried  "  Keating's,"  a  small  tooth- 
comb,  and  lamp  of  camphor  during  his  travels.  He 
was  a  wise  fellow.  Along  the  kerb-sides  were  innumer- 
able dustbins,  for  the  Haytians  throw  all  their  house 
refuse  into  the  highway,  right  opposite  their  front 
door.  And  there  it  stood,  incubating  in  the  hot  sun- 
light, heaving  and  buzzing,  thousands  of  tiny  worlds 
populated  with  happy  life,  green  and  sapphire-winged 
insects,  worlds  upon  worlds  inhabited  by  bright- 
plumaged  beings  that  feed  on  the  offal  of  their  sphere 
as  they  sang  and  danced  in  their  youth  and  grew  old 
in  their  universe  of  inscrutable  mystery.  Even  as 
Clensy  and  Adams  watched,  they  saw  clouds  of  bright, 
gauzy  wings  arise,  millions  of  God's  humblest  beings 
emigrating  as  they  swarmed  away,  hissing  and  singing 
till  they  found  another  constellation  of  shining  hot 
worlds  in  front  of  the  stores  farther  down  the  great 
highway  of  their  heavens !  As  for  the  black-faced 
population,  they  might  have  been  the  dead  Pharaohs 
shuffling  along  in  some  mysterious  holiday,  rewakened 
from  the  tomb.  On  they  shuffled,  apparently  oblivious 
to  everything ;  dusky  faces,  yellowish  faces,  greenish 
faces  and  copper-coloured  faces.  A  picturesque  sight 
they  made.  The  warm-coloured  women  and  girls  were 
clad  in  sarongs  and  scanty  semi-European  attire  as  they 
slouched  or  shuffled  under  the  palms  of  the  street's  side, 
laughing  and  babbling  together,  girls  and  youths  of  all 
types  laughing  or  yawning  as  they  swallowed  the 


SESTRINA  21 

astonished  insects  as  they  migrated  from  one  heap  of 
refuse  to  another,  and  sometimes  fell  into  the  abyss 
of  those  open  thick-lipped  negro  and  negress  mouths  ! 

"  Don't  fink  much  of  this  'ere  plyce  !  "  mumbled 
Adams. 

r  "  All  right  in  its  way ;  good  for  insect  collectors," 
replied  Clensy. 

"  Mulatters  and  niggers  ain't  civilised  like  we,  are," 
was  Adams's  sententious  remark,  as  he  removed  a  cork 
and  sniffed  the  shellback's  sal  volatile — his  rum-flask  ! 

"  Not  they !  "  said  Clensy,  shaking  his  head  with 
superb  acquiescence.  With  all  the  drawbacks  of 
Haytian  ways,  Clensy  admitted  that  the  city  had  its 
picturesque,  poetic  side.  The  half-caste  girls  and 
negresses  with  heads  adorned  with  wonderful  chignons, 
the  dusky,  bright-eyed  youths  and  the  musical  patois 
they  babbled,  greeted  Clensy's  ears  and  eyes  in  a  pleas- 
ing way.  Far  away  he  saw  the  palm-clad  mountain 
slopes  disappearing  into  rugged,  dreamy  blue  distances, 
and  on  the  other  side  of  the  city  stretched  the  dim  wide 
plains  of  Gonaives.  "  What  mahogany  trees !  "  ex- 
claimed Clensy,  as  they  stood  before  several  giant, 
sombre  trees,  the  last  members  of  the  great  forests  that 
had  once  surrounded  Port-au-Prince. 

"  Damn  yer  trees !  "  said  Adams,  who  was  more 
interested  in  watching  several  Haytian  maids  and 
negresses  perform  a  peculiar  dance,  the  bamboula,  the 
steps  of  which  gave  a  bold  exhibition  of  the  dancer's 
physical  charms.  Adams,  being  very  religious  and  modest 
by  nature,  said,  "  'Ow  can  they  do  sich  rings  before 
civilised  men  like  hus  !  It's  terryble  !  " 

"  Don't  break  down  ;  all  our  health  is  wanted  to  meet 
the  trials  of  adversity  before  us,"  said  Clensy  in  a 
soothing  voice,  as  Adams  hung  his  blushing  face  and 
the  maids  still  danced  on.  Then  the  sailorman  lifted 
his  shocked  countenance  and,  as  his  solitary  eye  gave 
a  merry  blue  twinkle,  he  murmured,  "  Let's  git  out  of 
it  and  go  back  to  our  lodgings." 


22  SESTRINA 

The  fact  is  that  it  was  getting  late,  and  the  stars  were 
already  shining  over  the  plains  of  Gonaives.  In  half 
an  hour  Clensy  and  Adams  had  arrived  back  at  theii 
cheap  lodging-house  that  was  situated  by  the  Sing-Song 
Cafe,  in  La  Selle  Street. 

"  By  God's  grace  I'll  sleep  to-night,"  said  Clensy, 
as  he  took  his  tin  of  Keating's  flea  powder  forth  and 
began  to  well  pepper  his  bunk  bed.  Then  he  opened 
his  baize  bag  (he  had  pawned  his  portmanteau),  and, 
taking  out  his  special  bit  of  ship's  sheeting,  he  pitched 
the  lodging-house  sheet  out  of  the  window  and  re- 
made the  bed.  "  You're  too  aristocratic,  too  'tickler 
ter  travel.  You  orter  stopped  'ome  with  yer  pa  and 
ma,"  said  Adams,  as  he  picked  up  a  wriggling  fat  green 
lizard  from  his  bed  and  tossed  it  out  of  the  window. 

"  Maybe  I  am  too  particular,"  replied  Clensy,  as  he 
glanced  through  the  window  at  the  stars,  and  wondered 
how  long  the  mingy  oil-lamp,  that  swung  from  the  ceil- 
ing, would  last  before  the  oil  was  exhausted.  Then 
his  heart  gave  a  thump  and  nearly  stopped !  Adams 
dropped  his  pipe  in  his  astonishment.  They  both 
thought  the  roof  had  fallen  on  top  of  them. 

But  it  wasn't  as  bad  as  that.  A  huge  settee-pillow 
had  been  thrown,  had  struck  Clensy  on  top  of  the  head, 
and  smashed  into  Adams's  back.  A  tremendous  peal  of 
laughter  shook  the  room.  "  Flea  powder !  By  the 
gods  of  my  fathers,  flea  powder  !  "  yelled  a  voice.  They 
turned  their  heads,  and  there,  in  a  bunk  right  opposite 
their  own,  they  saw  two  large  blue  eyes  staring  at  them 
from  beneath  a  giant  of  a  brow.  They  saw  a  great 
body  slowly  uplift  from  the  bunk.  Then  the  figure's 
wide-open  mouth  gave  vent  to  a  vibrant  peal  of  renewed 
laughter.  The  man  who  had  so  boisterously  introduced 
himself  to  Clensy  and  Adams  was  a  new  arrival  in  Hayti, 
had  only  the  day  before  left  a  steamer  in  the  bay  at 
Port-au-Prince. 

Clensy  and  Adams  still  stared  on  the  man  with  their 
mouths  wide  open. 


SESTRINA  23 

"  Give  us  some  flea  powder,  youngster  !  " 

Just  for  a  moment  Clensy  continued  to  stare  at  those 
sombre  yet  humorous-looking  eyes,  then  he  picked  up 
the  tin  of  powder  and  courteously  handed  it  to  the  big 
man. 

'    "  Got  any  baccy  ?     Don't  stand  there  with  yer  god- 
damned mouths  open  ;  hand  the  weed  up  !  " 

At  this  new  demand,  Adams  and  Clensy,  like  two 
obedient  children,  felt  quickly  in  their  pockets  and 
handed  their  giant-like  bedioom  companion  their 
pouches.  They  couldn't  help  it !  The  strange  eyes 
were  magnetic,  the  light  in  them  not  only  compelled 
Clensy  and  Adams  to  accede  to  their  owner's  request, 
but  also  gave  them  pleasure  at  being  able' to  supply  his 
wants  ! 

"  And  who  may  you  be  ?  "  asked  Clensy  quietly  as 
he  recovered  his  composure. 

"  I'm  Samuel  Bartholomew  Biglow !  that's  my 
handle !  "  roared  the  boisterous  stranger.  Then  he 
half  emptied  their  pouches,  threw  them  on  the  floor, 
and  carefully  pressed  his  thumb  into  his  corn-cob  pipe. 

"  So  that's  your  name,  and  it's  a  suitable  one," 
Clensy  ventured  to  say  ;  then  he  smiled,  for  he  vaguely 
realised  that  a  man  had  a  right  to  call  himself  by  any 
name  he  wished,  especially  one  with  such  a  commanding 
personality  and  giant-like  proportions, 

"  I  like  the  look  of  ye  both,  damned  if  I  don't,"  said 
the  stranger ;  then  he  well  sprinkled  his  bunk  with 
the  flea  powder  and  tossed  Clensy  back  the  tin. 

"  And  what  might  your  name  be  ?  "  he  said,  as  he 
gave  Adams  a  mighty  languishing  glance. 

"  My  nyme's  Adams,"  mumbled  that  worthy  in 
humble  tones. 

"  And  my  name  is  Jonathan  Canton  Solomon  Clensy," 
said  the  young  Englishman,  in  a  voice  which  intimated 
that  he  too  could  call  himself  names. 

For  a  moment  the  big  man  Surveyed  Clensy  with  a 
glance  of  admiration,  then  he  yelled  out,  "  Solomon 


24  SESTRINA 

Clensy  and  Isaac  Adams,  I've  cottoned  to  ye  both,  so 
I'll  see  more  of  ye  both  in  the  morning."  The  next 
moment  he  had  tucked  his  immense  silken  scarf 
about  his  throat,  and  placing  two  huge,  wonderfully 
white  feet  over  the  bunk's  side,  settled  himself  for 
sleep. 

When  Clensy  and  Adams  awoke  in  the  morning  the 
new-comer  was  already  up  and  dressed. 

"  God  damn  it,  rise  and  shine,  lying  in  bed,  ye  lazy 
loafers,"  he  yelled. 

They  lifted  their  tired  heads  and  gazed  vacantly  on 
the  boisterous  disturber  of  their  late  slumber.  For  a 
moment  a  look  of  resentment  over  the  man's  impertinent 
manner  leapt  into  Adams's  eye.  Clensy  also  gave 
Biglow  a  look  which  plainly  said,  "  Who  the  devil  are 
you  that  you  have  the  cheek  to  order  us  to  rise  ?  "  But 
when  Bartholomew  Biglow  laid  his  massive  hand  on  his 
velvet  waistcoat  and  burst  into  a  song  that  told  of  the 
horn  of  the  hunters  on  the  English  hills,  of  grey  dawns 
and  the  skylark's  melodious  trills  to  the  sunrise,  Clensy 
and  Adams  rose,  and,  looking  rather  sheepish,  com- 
menced to  dress.  Then  Biglow  took  them  both  into 
the  big  dining-room  where  lodgers  assembled  for  their 
meals,  and  treated  them  both  to  a  glorious  breakfast. 

"  Get  it  down  ye !  "  he  yelled,  as  Adams  and  Clensy 
munched  their  toast  and  poached  eggs  and  bacon. 
Adams  nudged  Clensy  in  the  ribs,  and  chuckled  over 
their  sudden  luck.  After  breakfast,  the  three  men 
went  outside  their  lodging  shanty  and  stood  under  the 
shading  mahogany  trees  near  Selle  Place.  Then  Samuel 
Biglow,  for  such  we  will  call  him,  told  Clensy  and  his 
comrade,  that  though  he  had  been  the  paramour  of 
queens  and  the  confidant  of  kings,  he  reckoned  he  was 
well  off  to  have  met  such  a  one  as  Adams.  Adams  took 
the  big  man's  hand  and  said  in  almost  respectful  tones, 
"  Same  ter  you,  Myster  Samuel  Bartholomew  Biglow." 
Then  Samuel  tendered  them  his  credentials  in  the 
shape  of  voluminous  verbal  reminiscences,  telling  them 


SESTRINA  25 

of  mighty  deeds  he  had  performed.  If  the  man's  own 
accounts  could  be  relied  upon,  he  had  been  a  wonder  In 
his  time. 

Then  Samuel  listened  to  Adams,  for  that  worthy 
also  started  to  blow  his  own  trumpet.  Samuel  Biglow 
b§nt  his  giant  form  and  roared  with  laughter  as  he 
listened.  Then  Adams  said  he  was  "  a  man  of  honour," 
that  he  would  "  sooner  die  than  do  unto  another  that 
which  he  would  not  like  to  be  done  to  him." 

"  So,  so  !  "  murmured  Samuel  Biglow  soothingly,  as 
he  gave  Adams  a  kindly,  mother-like  look,  which  plainly 
told  Clensy,  who  thoroughly  enjoyed  the  play,  that  he, 
Samuel,  didn't  believe  one  word  that  the  sailorman 
said,  and  that  he  was  doubtlessly  as  big  a  rogue  as  him- 
self. "  Ye've  got  honesty  written  on  yer  mug !  "  he 
said,  and  Adams  felt  pleased. 

The  fact  is,  that  circumstances  were  running  as  near 
dire  disaster  as  could  possibly  be  when  two  men  like 
Samuel  Biglow  and  Adams  met  in  Hayti,  where 
catastrophes  were  of  hourly  occurrence.  And  it  can 
only  be  put  down  to  extraordinary  good  luck  that 
Royal  Clensy  never  got  his  head  into  at  least  a  noose  of 
difficulties  through  associating  with  such  characters. 
However,  let  it  be  said,  that  all  that  happened  after- 
wards was  not  the  fault  of  either  Samuel  Biglow  or 
Adams  ;  if  anything,  Samuel  Biglow  was  Royal  Clensy's 
saviour  when  the  hour  arrived,  and  they  had  to  flee,  the 
three  of  them,  from  Hayti. 


CHAPTER  III 

SAMUEL  BIGLOW  was  a  blessing  to  Clensy  and  Adams. 
As  well  as  possessing  enormous  cheek,  he  possessed 
plenty  of  money.     That  which  surprised  Clensy  most 
about   Biglow   was   his   refined   demeanour   when   he 
entered  Haytian  society.     It  seemed  to  come  natural  to 


26  SESTRINA 

the  man.  He  had  certainly  never  been  well  educated 
or  reared  amongst  courtly  people,  yet  his  self-possessioD 
and  gallant  manners  outrivalled  the  polite  deportment 
of  men  and  women  who  moved  in  the  best  social  circle 
of  Port-au-Prince.  It  must  be  admitted  that  the 
highest  Haytian  social  circle,  in  those  days,  was  not 
easily  shocked  over  moral  lapses  or  by  those  acts  which 
would  be  considered  breaches  of  etiquette  in  European 
society ;  but  still,  the  Mexican  and  Spanish-French 
element  of  gallant  manners  and  pretty  politenesses 
among  the  wealthy  classes  existed  in  a  large  degree. 
These  classes  were  made  up  of  Haytian  chiefs,  mulattoes 
and  Mexicans,  and  lusty-looking  men  who  appeared 
to  have  a  large  strain  of  negro  blood  in  their  veins.  The 
government  of  Hayti  was  in  form  republican,  the  demo- 
cratic element  being  especially  noticeable  when  the 
court  officials  and  lustrous-eyed  Haytian  maids  of  the 
lower  classes  came  together.  When  Congress  met  at 
the  chambers,  the  swarthy  ministers  discussed  public 
matters  with  great  deliberation,  each  member  holding  a 
drawn  .sword  in  his  hand  and  a  revolver  lying  fully 
loaded  on  the  bench  in  front  of  him.  In  fact,  the 
Haytian  Government  constitution  was  up  to  date, 
nothing  to  excel  its  laws — on  paper !  And  the  honest 
aspect  of  the  officials  par  excellence.  All  that  was  really 
required  was  an  honest  Napoleonic  Controller  of  Con- 
trollers to  help  responsible  members  of  the  Republic 
from  falling  before  the  lure  of  bribery  and  lustrous- 
eyed  beauties  of  the  Court. 

Such  was  the  state  of  Haytian  affairs  in  Clensy's 
youth,  in  the  grand  days  when  Samuel  Bartholomew 
Biglow  smacked  the  President  of  the  Republic  in  genial 
comradeship  on  the  back  and  patronised  the  cynical 
Haytian  chiefs  by  his  august  presence.  Samuel  Biglow 
was  not  an  enigma,  he  was  simply  royalty  in  the  raw 
state.  He  had  the  personality  and  the  cool  cheek  that 
raises  men  to  eminence  amongst  primitive  or  even 
civilised  peoples  when  they  mourn  a  lost  leader.  Had 


SESTRINA  27 

Biglow  lived  in  old  Britain  in  the  days  of  Boadicea,  lie 
would  have  been  heard  of.  School-children  would  to- 
day have  been  compelled  to  memorise  the  date  of  his 
birth  and  when  and  how  he  died.  Antiquated,  worn 
monuments  to  his  ancient  fame  would  adorn  the  old 
bridges  of  our  cities.  But  he  was  born  too  late.  When 
he  arrived  on  earth,  the  moral  codes  of  the  heroic  ages 
had  become  reversed ;  consequently,  it  required  all  his 
astuteness  to  save  himself  from  being  elected  for  the 
gallows  or  life-long  meditation  in  Wormwood  Scrubbs 
or  Sing-Sing.  Such  is  the  irony  of  fame  and  changeful 
circumstance.  However,  Samuel  was  happy  enough. 
His  handsome  face  would  flush  with  the  light  of  his 
amorous  imagination  when  the  dusky  ladies  who 
attended  the  presidential  balk  gave  him  languishing 
glances  ;  and  gallantly  did  he  return  them !  He  had 
not  been  in  Hayti  more  than  a  week  before  he  managed 
to  enter  the  palace  and  make  the  acquaintance  of  Presi- 
dent Gravelot.  Adams  and  Clensy  were  astonished 
when  one  night  he  came  back  to  his  lodgings  and  in- 
formed them  that  he  had  had  a  busy  day,  being  honoured 
as  the  special  guest  of  the  president  of  the  Black 
Republic. 

"  Borrow  anyfing  from  'im  ?  "  said  Adams,  staring 
at  the  big  man  in  hopeful  surprise. 

"  No  need  to  borrow.  I've  found  out  that  the  Presi- 
dent is  me  long-lost  father.  He's  recognised  the  straw- 
berry mark  on  me  back,  and  I'm  to  receive  an  allowance 
from  the  Government  exchequer,"  replied  Bartholomew 
Biglow  with  his  usual  jovial  mendacity.  The  truth  of 
the  whole  business  was,  that  Samuel  was  doing  a  bit  of 
gun-running  for  the  U.S.  firearm  and  munition  factories. 
And  President  Gravelot  was  anxious  to  purchase  as 
many  Snider  rifles  and  as  much  ammunition  as  he  could 
possibly  get  hold  of.  A  revolution  occurred  in  Hayti 
every  year  or  so,  when  a  rival  for  the  presidency  ap- 
peared and  was  backed  up  by  rebels  and  sometimes 
Government  soldiers.  And  so  the  Government  officials 


28  SESTRINA 

and  the  rebel  officials,  who  dwelt  by  thousands  in  the 
mountains  about  Hayti,  were  for  ever  competing  with 
each  other  in  buying  arms  and  ammunition,  and  the 
United  States  firms  were  ever  ready  to  supply  the  afore- 
said arms  for  cash  down.  In  fact,  while  Biglow  was 
getting  the  best  terms  from  President  Gravelot,  an 
American  steamer  was  lying  in  the  bay  off  Port-au- 
Prince  with  a  cargo  of  antiquated  old  stock  guns  and 
explosives  on  board.  This  steamer  had  carried  a  most 
enterprising  super  cargo  and  shore  agent,  and  this  super- 
cargo was  eminently  suitable  for  the  position — his 
nom  de  plume  was  Samuel  Bartholomew  Biglow  !  So  it 
will  be  easy  to  see  why  Biglow  was  welcomed  by  Presi- 
dent Gravelot. 

Biglow's  cheek  and  convivial  ways  pleased  the  Presi- 
dent and  all  the  officials  whom  he  came  in  contact  with. 
Though  the  national  emblem  of  Hayti  was  the  feathery 
cabbage  palm,  and  suggested  "  Peace  on  Earth,  Truth 
and  Beauty,"  the  true  emblem  should  have  been  daggers 
and  knives  and  a  human  skull,  with  the  motto,  "  Live 
and  be  Merry,  for  To-morrow  we  lose  power  or  die  !  " 
For,  as  has  been  said,  revolutions  came  like  the 
punctuality  of  the  seasons,  and  generally  ended  in  the 
reigning  president  being  shot  and  the  officials  having  to 
flee  for  their  lives.  No  doubt,  Gravelot  was  immensely 
pleased  to  meet  such  a  one  as  Biglow  when  he  was 
already  feeling  uneasy  about  his  waning  power.  For 
the  Cacaos  insurgents  had  already  taken  to  warfare  in 
the  Black  Mountains,  and  day  by  day  rumours  were 
reaching  Gravelot  which  hinted  that  his  presidency 
was  nearing  its  close.  Indeed,  during  his  office  Hayti 
had  been  in  arms,  in  one  long  civil  war.  Gravelot  held 
the  highest  prestige  in  the  eyes  of  the  British  and  French 
Consuls,  and  so  Biglow  knew  what  he  was  about  when 
he  got  in  friendly  touch  with  Gravelot.  It  was  hard, 
in  the  interminable  squabbles  between  the  negro, 
mulatto  and  Mexican  portion  of  the  population,  to 
know  which  was  really  the  greatest  power.  All  that 


SESTRINA  29 

can  be  positively  asserted  is  that  no  chance  was  lost 
by  the  Haytians  and  mulattoes  to  thoroughly  enjoy 
their  lives  according  to  their  tastes.  So  Biglow  was 
received  with  open  arms  at  the  presidential  balls,  where 
he  astonished  the  lustrous -eyed  maids  of  the  passionate 
south  by  his  magnificent  effrontery,  in  days  of  old 
when  passions  ran  riot  in  Hayti.  When  Clensy  got 
wind  of  the  truth,  heard  that  Biglow  was  in  with  the 
President,  his  heart  beat  with  a  great  hope.  Not 
for  one  moment  had  he  forgotten  the  beautiful  girl 
who  had  spoken  to  them  when  he  and  Adams  had 
stood,  two  humble  troubadours,  outside  the  palace 
gates.  He  saw  his  chance.  He  had  already  made 
inquiries,  and  discovered  that  the  girl  who  had  so  im- 
pressed him  was  the  beautiful  Sestrina,  President 
Gravelot's  daughter.  At  the  earliest  possible  moment 
Clensy  had  informed  Bartholomew  Biglow  that  he 
would  feel  more  than  kindly  towards  that  worthy  if  he 
would  use  his  influence  to  get  him  introduced  into  the 
palace. 

''  You  can  accomplish  anything  you  wish  to  accom- 
plish," said  Clensy. 

"  Possibly  so,"  was  Biglow's  brief  reply ;  then  he 
added,  "  You  see,  lad,  my  business  at  the  palace  is 
peculiarly  secret,  and  I  don't  stand  on  safe  ground 
when  I  commence  to  introduce  white  men  into  the 
Court  of  the  Black  Republic." 

Clensy  looked  glum  at  hearing  this,  but  he  looked 
more  cheerful  when  Biglow  ended  up  by  saying,  "  I'll 
think  the  matter  over  ;  p'raps  I  can  see  a  way  of  doing 
the  thing." 

That  same  night  Biglow  happened  to  hear  Adams 
performing  on  a  banjo  at  the  Sing-Song  Cafe,  hard  by 
their  lodgings  (Adams  was  a  decent  banjo  player), 
and  Clensy  strumming  out  melodies  and  dance-tunes 
on  a  derelict  piano.  So  when  Biglow  met  Clensy  next 
day  he  gave  the  young  Englishman  a  most  contemptuous 
look,  and  said,  "  You  !  You  play  the  piano  like  that 


30  SESTRINA 

and  yet  ask  me  to  get  you  introduced  into  the  palace 
society !  " 

"  What  on  earth  has  the  piano  to  do  with  it  ?  How  ? 
Why  ?  "  said  Clensy,  mystified. 

"  Lad,  you're  a  mug,  and  though  you  can't  see 
farther  than  the  tip  of  yer  nose,  you  may  consider  your- 
self engaged  on  the  spot  as  Pianist  to  the  President  of 
the  Black  Republic." 

Clensy,  with  his  usual  lack  of  confidence,  began  to 
expostulate  and  bring  forward  a  hundred  reasons  to 
show  why  such  a  procedure  would  be  a  failure.  But 
Biglow  simply  gave  him  another  contemptuous  glance, 
and  then,  pushing  his  mass  of  curls  from  his  massive 
brow,  turned  on  his  heel  and  walked  away.  Next  day, 
when  Clensy  returned  from  a  stroll  in  the  town  back  to 
his  lodgings,  Biglow  smacked  him  on  the  back  and  in- 
formed him  that  he  was  engaged  as  piano-player  for 
the  coming  presidential  ball.  The  next  moment  Biglow 
had  handed  Clensy  twenty  Mexican  dollars. 

"  What's  this  for  ?  "  gasped  the  astonished  Clensy. 

"  Why,  you  looney,  it's  your  advance,  a  bit  on 
account  of  your  wages  !  "  Then  Biglow  explained  that 
he  had  told  the  President  that  he,  Clensy,  was  a  great 
musician,  the  chief  Musical  Director  of  the  Conservatoire 
in  New  York,  and  that  it  was  a  relentless  rule  of  Yankee 
virtuosos  to  demand  an  advance  note. 

"  But  I'm  not  a  professional  player  at  all.  I  can't 
play  well  enough,"  said  Clensy,  as  he  recovered  from 
his  surprise,  and  looked  at  the  money.  "  I'm  only  a 
strummer  on  the  piano,  and  they'll  expect  to  hear  some 
of  the  classics  performed,  won't  they  ?  "  said  Clensy. 

"  Can't  play  well  enough !  Classics,  by  God !  " 
yelled  Biglow,  giving  the  young  Englishman  a  wither- 
ing, pitying  glance,  then  he  added,  "  By  heavens,  if  you 
refuse  the  job,  I'll  take  it  on  !  Do  you  think  these  half- 
caste  niggers  know  what  music  is  ?  It's  Bartholomew 
Biglow  who  knows  what  melody  is  ;  he'll  show  'em  !  " 
So  saying,  Biglow  immediately  opened  his  mouth  and 


SESTRINA  31 

began  to  sing  some  weird  heathen  melody  which  made 
the  Haytian  maids  rush  from  their  doorways  to  see  who 
sang  so  well  and  with  such  vibrant  feeling.  Clensy 
at  once  bowed  to  the  inevitable,  and  agreed  to  accept 
the  engagement,  and  play  at  the  palace  ball  on  the 
following  night. 

Eoyal  Clensy  discovered  that  Biglow's  assurance  that 
no  one  in  Hayti  knew  what  real  music  was,  was  admir- 
ably exemplified  by  himself  when  he  sat  the  next  night 
in  the  sumptuously  furnished  ball-room  of  the  palace 
and  banged  away  on  the  imported  Erard  pianoforte. 
True  enough  he  had  been  well  primed  up  for  the  occasion 
by  Biglow,  who  had  enticed  him  to  swallow  much 
cognac.  And  so  the  young  Englishman  felt  that  he 
was  seeing  tropical  life  in  its  most  vigorous,  romantic 
stage,  as  the  richly- attired  Haytian  chiefs  and 
voluptuous-eyed  mulatto  women,  clad  in  picturesque 
sarongs,  did  wonderful  dances  that  had  been  introduced 
into  Hayti  by  the  old-time  West  African  negro  emi- 
grants. As  the  happy  guests  drank  their  host's  rich, 
heady  wines,  the  strain  of  negro  blood,  which  is  in  the 
veins  of  almost  all  the  Haytians,  asserted  itself.  The 
romantically  clad  half-caste  girls  undid  their  chignons 
and  allowed  their  shining,  dusky  tresses  to  fall  in  wanton 
abandonment  about  their  bare  shoulders.  And,  as 
their  softly-sandalled  feet  tripped  and  glided  across 
the  wide  polished  floor  of  the  dancing-room,  their  dark 
eyes  sparkled  in  the  light  of  the  innumerable  hanging 
lamps.  Clensy  almost  forgot  to  play  the  tricky  synco- 
pated time  of  the  dances,  for  just  by  the  side  of  the 
piano  was  a  large  mirror  wherein  the  shadowy  forms 
of  the  wine- warmed  dusky  beauties  gave  misty  yet 
vivid  demonstrative  exhibitions  of  their  delicate  charms, 
as  they  did  the  heart-rending  steps  of  the  bavnboula 
and  the  old  barbarian  chica  dances  !  Even  Biglow  gave 
a  ponderous  wink  and  modestly  arched  his  hand  over 
his  eyes  as  his  big  dancing  feet  swerved  by  the  piano, 
and  Clensy  looked  sideways  at  him.  That  ball-room 


32  SESTRINA 

was  a  seraglio  of  smouldering  frenzied  passion.  The 
semi-diaphanous  robes  of  the  women  seemed  to  have 
been  cut  out  of  material  that  was  specially  suitable  for 
revealing  the  shapely  limbs  of  the  wearers.  The  lustrous 
eyes  of  those  dusky  beauties  of  southern  climes  gave 
deliberate,  long  languishing  glances,  and  so  fired  the 
blood  of  dark,  fierce  men  who  had  their  origin  away 
back  in  the  ancient  primitive  life  of  Africa  and  Arabia. 

When  the  interval  arrived,  Clensy  rose  from  the 
piano  and  strolled  about,  as  he  sought  to  find  some 
trace  of  pretty  Sestrina,  she  whom  he  had  dreamed  so 
much  about.  He  was  almost  pleased  to  find  that  she 
was  not  to  be  found  in  that  passionate,  riotous,  high 
Haytian  society.  The  reason  Sestrina  was  absent  was 
because  the  president  would  not  allow  his  daughter 
to  enter  the  festival  rooms  when  the  fetish  dances  were 
on.  Instead  of  Clensy  being  disappointed  at  not  seeing 
the  girl  at  all,  he  blessed  his  luck,  for  everything  turned 
out  beautifully  unexpected.  The  heat  was  terrific,  and 
so  Clensy,  after  having  a  cooling  drink,  pulled  the  wide 
heavily-draped  curtains  of  the  ball-room  aside  and 
passed  into  the  outer  corridors.  Then  he  stood  by  the 
tropical  flowers  which  grew  in  pots  in  the  large  palace 
rooms,  and  breathed  in  the  scented  zephyrs  which 
floated  through  the  open  windows.  The  sight  of  the 
picturesque  grounds  that  surrounded  the  presidential 
residence  tempted  him  to  pass  out  into  the  open  air. 
As  he  approached  the  mahogany  groves  and  lit  a 
cigarette,  be  was  startled  at  hearing  a  voice  say,  "  Suva, 
monsieur,  'tis  you  again  !  Why  this  pleasure  ?  " 

Clensy  turned  round  and  found  himself  face  to  face 
with  President  Gravelot's  daughter,  Sestrina !  Her 
rich  tresses  were  ornamented  with  hibiscus  blossoms. 
And  as  she  stood  smiling  before  Clensy,  she  did  look  as 
perfect  as  a  young  man's  dream  of  woman. 

"  So  you  are  here  in  the  palace,  Suvam  kari,  Englees- 
man  ?  "  the  girl  said,  speaking  in  a  kind  of  Haytian 
patois  in  an  undecided  way,  as  though  she  was  un- 


SESTRINA  33 

certain  as  to  which  language  Clensy  would  understand 
the  best. 

"  Yes,  I  am  here,"  replied  Clensy,  hardly  knowing 
what  else  to  say,  as  he  gazed  into  the  girl's  dark,  beauti- 
ful eyes  as  she  laughed  like  a  happy  child.  And  as  he 
gazed,  he  heard  the  buzz  and  weird  hum  of  the  native 
orchestra's  stringed  instruments  playing  in  the  ball- 
room. Those  sounds  meant  that  his  absence  from  the 
piano  would  not  be  missed,  for  the  dancing  had  com- 
menced to  the  strains  of  the  four  Haytian  musicians, 
who  had  sat  silent  in  the  ball-room  when  Clensy  had 
presided  at  the  piano.  Though  it  was  night,  the  trees, 
the  fountains,  and  even  the  colour  of  the  flowers,  were 
distinctly  visible.  Every  hanging  bough  sparkled  with 
the  steady  lights  of  the  hundreds  of  hanging  garden 
lamps.  The  mystery  of  night  and  the  stars  and  the 
dark  orange  groves  was  in  perfect  harmony  with 
Sestrina's  type  of  beauty.  Perhaps  Sestrina  knew 
this,  for  she  stood  perfectly  still  under  the  mahogany 
tree's  branches,  staring  earnestly  at  Clensy  as  the 
warm  scented  winds  drifted  her  tresses  in  confusion  over 
her  shoulder.  The  young  Englishman  could  hardly 
believe  his  luck  as  the  girl  took  his  arm  and  walked 
away  with  him  into  the  shadows  as  though  he  was  a 
very,  very  old  acquaintance  !  Though  she  had  made 
a  great  impression  on  his  mind  when  he  had  first  seen 
her,  he  had  endeavoured  to  thrust  her  from  his  memory 
as  something  quite  unattainable,  beyond  his  hopes  and 
the  ordinary  possibilities  of  his  humble  position  in  Hayti. 
But  there  he  stood,  Sestrina  holding  his  arm,  gazing 
into  his  face  with  a  childlike  expression  in  her  eyes. 
Yes,  it  was  all  true  enough.  Fate  had  thrown  them 
together,  some  immutable  law  had  decreed  that  it 
should  be,  that  all  that  was  to  happen  in  their  lives  after- 
wards, had  been  carefully  planned  out  and  sighed  over 
by  destiny.  Clensy's  heart  thumped  with  happiness, 
no  premonition  of  coming  sorrow  in  far-off  days  came  to 
dispel  his  unbounded  joy  as  they  both,  in  mutual 
C 


34  SESTRINA 

secrecy,  stole  away  by  the  tropical  fuchsia  trees  so 
that  they  could  get  away  from  the  prying  eyes  of  the 
stragglers  near  the  palace. 

"  Have  you  come  to  stay  in  Hayti,  Engleesman  ?  " 
whispered  Sestrina,  as  she  gave  Clensy  a  swift  bright 
glance. 

"  I  don't  know  yet,"  responded  Clensy.  And  as  he 
gazed  down  the  moonlit  orange  groves  he  fancied  he 
could  see  the  happy  phantoms  of  his  imagination  dancing 
in  impish  delight  on  the  footpath.  The  rich  odours  from 
decaying  pineapples  and  the  hanging  overripe  lemons 
and  limes  made  a  perfect  atmosphere  for  Clensy's  ro- 
mantic meditations.  And  Sestrina  ? — her  heart  flut- 
tered, it  was  almost  like  a  dream  to  her,  too  ! 

"  Oh,  how  different  are  the  sun-tanned  flushed  faces 
of  the  handsome  Englishmen  to  the  yellow-skinned  Hay- 
tian  men,"  she  thought  as  she  sighed  and  looked  at 
Clensy  again.  Everything  in  nature  seemed  to  feel 
kindly  disposed  towards  them  both.  The  moon  in- 
tensified the  dark  loveliness  of  Sestrina's  eyes  as  the 
scented  warm  zephyrs  lifted  her  tresses  and  tumbled 
them  in  artless  confusion  about  her  neck  and  shoulders. 

"  I  am  only  in  Hayti  for  a  holiday,  I'm  travelling. 
I'm  a  tourist,  you  know,"  said  Clensy.  Then  he  remem- 
bered under  what  circumstances  Sestrina  had  first  seen 
him,  and  added  with  excusable  mendacity.  "  I've  been 
most  unfortunate,  I  lost  all  my  money  in  a  shipwreck 
just  before  I  arrived  in  Hayti." 

"  Oh,  how  sad !  "  exclaimed  Sestrina,  then  she  gave 
a  low,  merry  peal  of  hushed  laughter.  Clensy  won- 
dered why  the  girl  should  laugh  so,  and  cursed  the  very 
memory  of  Adams.  For,  if  ever  he  had  wanted  to 
appear  refined  and  gentle,  and  one  who  loved  delicate 
associations,  it  was  at  that  moment  in  his  life.  How- 
ever, Clensy  was  wrong  in  his  suspicions,  the  girl  had 
believed  every  word  he  uttered.  Sestrina  was  unworldly. 
She  was  Gravelot's  only  daughter.  Her  mother  was  an 
inmate  of  an  asylum  at  Rio  Grande,  a  fact  of  which 


SESTRINA  35 

Sestrina  was  not  aware,  she  having  been  brought  up  to 
think  that  her  mother  was  dead.  She  had  led  a  secluded 
life  in  the  palace  since  her  father  had  been  made  Presi- 
dent of  the  Black  Republic.  Her  father  had  had  her 
reared  with  jealous  care.  The  girl's  constant  com- 
panion had  been  and  was  still,  an  aged  negress  nurse 
named  Claircine.  Claircine  had  ever  watched  over  the 
girl  with  that  affection  which  is  characteristic  in  the 
coloured  people  when  they  become  attached  to  those 
who  are  placed  in  their  care.  This  negress  had  cul- 
tivated Sestrina's  imagination  by  telling  her  pretty 
legends  and,  as  Gravelot  had  wished,  had  kept  her  mind 
childlike,  quite  ignorant  of  the  world  and  ways  of  men 
and  women.  The  only  knowledge  of  the  world  that  she 
had  acquired  had  come  to  her  through  the  medium  of 
the  sensational  French  novels  which  she  obtained  and 
read  in  secret.  Indeed  it  is  no  exaggeration  to  say, 
that  Sestrina,  like  many  Haytian  maids,  had  educated 
herself  and  obtained  her  knowledge  of  the  great  world 
around  her,  from  French  novels.  Of  course,  the  girl  did 
not  realise  the  meaning  of  a  deal  that  she  read.  And  so, 
to  her  mind,  the  words — "  Passion,  and  passionate," 
only  conveyed  some  idea  that  the  hero  or  heroine 
possessed  bad  tempers,  or  were  endowed  with  a  poetic 
passion  which  resembled  the  wild  moanings  of  the 
mahogany  trees  when  the  fierce  tornadoes  broke  over 
Hayti.  And  whenever  she  asked  the  negress  uncom- 
fortable questions,  Claircine  adroitly  changed  the  con- 
versation or  misinformed  the  girl.  And  so  Sestrina 
went  every  day  with  great  punctiliousness  to  confess  to 
the  aged  Catholic  priest,  P£re  Chaco,  also  knelt  every 
night  by  her  bedside  to  pray  with  absolute  faith  over  the 
goodness  of  men  and  the  boundless  mercy  of  God. 

Such  was  the  simple  wisdom  of  Sestrina's  mind.  And 
Royal  Clensy,  as  he  stood  in  the  palace  gardens  with 
Sestrina  that  night,  did  not  misunderstand  her  when  she 
boldly  intimated  that  she  was  supremely  happy  in  his 
company.  A  girl's  character  is  generally  clearly  imaged 


36  SESTRINA 

in  the  mirrors  of  her  soul — her  eyes.  And  Clensy's 
mind  was  not  the  kind  that  gives  a  distorted  view  of  the 
truth.  When  she  took  a  flower  from  her  hair,  touched 
it  with  her  lips,  and  then  placed  it  in  the  lapel  of  his  coat, 
he  realised  that  it  was  all  innocent  enough.  And  he  was 
happy  as  they  both  walked  up  and  down  in  the  moonlit 
shades  of  the  orange  groves.  "  Adams's  wretched 
accordion-music  has  its  compensations,"  he  thought  as 
he  realised  that  had  he  not  gone  off  busking  with  Adams 
he  might  never  have  met  Sestrina.  "  It's  fate,  Sestrina 
was  destined  to  come  into  my  life  like  this, '  he  mused  as 
Sestrina  stumbled,  and  nearly  fell  over  the  cactus  hedge. 
Sestrina  gave  a  little  cry  of  distress. 

"  Destiny  !  "  was  his  mental  ejaculation  as  he  leaned 
forward,  and  with  an  apologetic  look  in  his  eyes,  said 
"  Allow  me  !  " 

Ah,  the  girl's  innocent  manner  made  a  fascinating 
picture  as  she  lifted  her  pretty  ankle  a  few  inches  from 
the  ground.  How  tenderly  Clensy  examined  it  so  that 
he  might  staunch  the  tiny  flow  of  blood — a  thorn  had 
torn  the  soft  flesh  !  His  solicitude  eased  the  pain ! 
Only  a  born  artist  could  have  pulled  the  brown  stocking 
down  as  he  did !  It  was  perfect  art,  a  subtle  poem  in 
curves,  maiden  artlessness,  and  the  impertinence  of 
passionate  youth.  But  all  was  well.  Royal  Clensy 
was  in  Hayti !  Hayti,  the  land  of  flowers  and  song. 
Hayti  where  the  passions  ran  riot,  where  pretty  maids 
had  a  strange  golden  gleam  in  their  large  dark  eyes,  and 
all  their  actions  were  inspired  by  the  romance  and 
glamour  of  flamboyant  French  novels  ! 

"  And  how,  and  when  shall  I  see  you  again,  Made- 
moiselle Sestrina  ?  "  said  Clensy  as  he  gazed  in  an 
insane  way  into  her  face.  Poor  Clensy,  it  was  a  case. 
However,  his  malady  had  its  compensations,  for  Ses- 
trina also  seemed  beautifully  insane  as  they  both  held 
each  other's  hands,  loth  to  part !  Only  the  cry  of  the 
blue-winged  Haytian  owl  disturbed  the  silence  of  the 
giant  mahogany  trees  that  stood  like  mighty  sentinels 


SESTRINA  37 

around  the  palace  walls.  The  sounds  of  revelry  by  night 
had  ceased,  for  quite  an  hour  had  passed  since  they  had 
heard  the  last  wails  coming  from  the  violins  and  weird 
Haytian  musical  instruments  played  in  the  Presidential 
ball-room.  Clensy  had  forgotten  the  flight  of  time. 
Sesjtrina  was  the  more  practical  of  the  two  in  the  matter 
of  time,  since  she  dwelt  within  walking  distance  of  the 
paternal  halls.  She  knew  that  her  father  would  raise 
the  roof,  so  to  speak,  if  he  discovered  that  she  was  absent 
from  her  chamber  at  such  an  hour.  "  Monsieur  Royal, 
I  will  see  you  again,  fear  not,"  said  Sestrina. 

"  But — how  ?  And  when  ?  "  said  Clensy  as  he  glanced 
about  him  in  desperation.  Had  not  Sestrina  told  him 
a  few  moments  before  that  she  was  not  allowed  away 
from  the  palace  precincts  without  old  Claircine  ? 

"  Ah,  foolish  Engleesman,"  said  Sestrina  as  she  fell 
back  on  her  fascinating  patois,  and  placing  her  finger  to 
her  lips  as  though  in  deep  meditation,  gave  Clensy  a 
roguish  glance.  Ah,  how  swift-witted  is  woman  in 
comparison  with  dull-witted  man  ?  Sestrina  had  solved 
the  problem  as  to  the  means  of  their  meeting  again. 
She  well  remembered  how  Dumas'  heroes  and  heroines 
managed  such  delicate  matters  as  lovers'  meetings  when 
a  parent  stood  in  the  pathway  of  happiness. 

"  I  will  tell  mon  pere  that  I  wish  to  learn  to  play 
the  pianoforte,  and  you  whom  I  wish  to  see  again  may 
easily  be  the  favoured  one  to  give  me  those  lessons,  and 
the  harmony  be  the  sweeter  for  the  strange  though  happy 
coincidence  that  you  of  all  men  should  be  the  chosen 
teacher !  " 

Before  the  young  Englishman  had  realised  the  full 
import  of  Sestrina's  remarks  and  her  pretty  wit,  he  was 
alone.  Sestrina  had  passed  away  like  some  shadowy 
form  of  a  dream.  He  was  still  standing  under  the  orange 
trees  that  fronted  Sestrina's  palatial  residence.  Then 
he  moved  away  and  hurried  home,  his  footsteps  walking 
on  air  as  he  recalled  the  lovely  light  of  Sestrina's  eyes. 

That  same  night  Clensy's  life  seemed  to  have  become 


38  SESTRINA 

extra  valuable  to  him.  For  the  first  time  he  began  to 
realise  what  a  waste  of  his  days  he  was  making  by 
associating  with  men  like  Adams. 

"  By  Jove  !  she's  a  beautiful  girl,  well  educated  and 
poetic  too,"  he  muttered,  as  he  pulled  off  his  boots  and 
recalled  Sestrina's  pretty  phrases  and  those  poetic  say- 
ings which  she  had  memorised  from  the  pages  of  her 
beloved  French  novels.  Then,  and  for  the  first  time  for 
many  a  long  day,  Clensy  said  his  prayers,  and  asked 
God  to  give  him  Sestrina  and  make  him  really  happy. 
He  lay  for  quite  an  hour  in  his  humble  bed  in  the  lodging- 
house  at  Port-au-Prince,  thinking  and  thinking.  His 
mind  roamed  far  away  into  the  realms  of  romance  as  he 
stared  through  the  window  at  the  stars,  a  bright  con- 
stellation that  shone  just  over  the  mountains,  inland 
from  Gonaives.  And  as  he  reflected  on  Sestrina's  beauty 
and  the  deep  impression  she  had  made  on  his  mind,  he 
began  to  realise  what  it  all  meant  to  him.  His  thoughts 
eventually  became  entangled  in  dire  confusion  as  the 
possibilities  of  the  future  presented  themselves  to  his 
mind.  Would  she  really  accept  his  hand  in  marriage  ? 
Was  she  earnest,  and  did  she  really  understand  what  a 
man's  love  for  a  woman  meant  ?  Why  did  her  eyes 
look  so  childlike  when  he  had  whispered  those  words  of 
love  in  her  pretty  ears  ?  What  would  the  President 
think  when  he  became  aware  that  a  humble  pianist  had 
the  infernal  cheek  to  aspire  for  his  daughter's  hand  ? 
And  what  would  his  people  in  England  think  if  they 
heard  that  he  had  married  an  olive-hued  Haytian  girl  ? 
And  could  he  take  her  back  to  England  with  him — if  she 
was  willing  to  go  ?  And  as  he  continued  to  reflect 
and  conventional  obstacles  presented  themselves  to  his 
mind,  all  to  be  brushed  ruthlessly  aside  as  they  came  to 
him,  he  realised  that  his  personality  had  come  under  the 
complete  domination  of  a  passion.  He  tried  to  sleep, 
but  only  closed  his  eyes  to  find  his  imagination  became 
more  lively  than  ever.  Then,  opening  his  eyes  again, 
he  drifted  into  a  philosophical  vein  of  thought. 


SESTRINA  39 

"  I  am  what  I  am !  I  cannot  change  myself.  To 
attempt  to  control  one's  nature  is  as  ridiculous  and  as 
hopeless  as  to  attempt  to  revise  and  reform  the  work  of 
God  Himself,  and  all  that  is  written  on  that  strange  manu- 
script— the  human  heart !  " 

'Clensy  fell  into  a  fatalistic  mood.  He  lit  his  pipe, 
and  pitching  his  tobacco  pouch  across  the  room,  mur- 
mured, "  I'm  done  for !  Royal  Clensy  of  yesterday, 
Mr.  No.  I  of  myself  died  of  a  passionate  spasm  before  the 

palace  gates  at  Port-au-Prince  on  October  14th,  18 , 

was  ruthlessly  slain  by  the  magic  of  a  Haytian  maid's 
eyes.  Alas  !  what  is  man  but  a  wandering  bundle  of 
dreams  and  vague  desires  ?  A  scarecrow  of  himself 
wrapt  in  old  rags,  standing  in  the  lonely  field  of  his 
imagination,  his  thoughts  fluttering  like  starving  crows 
about  his  fleshly  skeleton.  Where's  the  corn  and  the 
oil  that  maketh  glad  the  heart  of  man  ? — It  exists  only 
in  the  golden  sheaves  of  dreams,  and  the  sickle  that  ever 
reaps  is  the  wide  sweep  of  our  hopes  being  borne  back  into 
the  dust,  scattered  by  each  inevitable  disillusionment." 

Ah,  Clensy,  you  had  indeed  got  into  a  sadly  morbid  state. 

As  the  young  Englishman  continued  to  reflect  over 
the  careless,  inconsequential  splendour  of  his  life  up  to 
the  time  when  he  met  Sestrina,  he  realised  that  his 
passion  for  the  girl  was  as  deep  as  his  own  interest  in 
himself,  and,  knowing  this,  he  saw  the  brighter  side  of 
his  strange  reflections  and  was  cheered  up.  "  I  shall  be 
happy  even  though  I  fail,  so  long  as  Sestrina  loves  me," 
he  thought.  Then  he  turned  over  on  his  rickety  bed 
and  joined  Bartholomew  Biglow  and  Adams  in  the  calm, 
deep  bass  measure  of  their  respective  snores. 


CHAPTER  IV 

A  FTER  Sestrina  had  taken  her  sudden  departure  from 
-/A-  the  infatuated  Clensy,  she  ran  down  the  pathway 
by  the  fuchsia  trees  so  that  she  might  enter  her  home 


40  SESTRINA 

unobserved.  She  did  not  fear  meeting  a  stray  servant  who 
might  be  abroad  in  the  cool  of  the  night,  but  she  knew 
that  her  father  had  been  absent  from  the  Presidential 
ball  since  six  o'clock.  His  absence  was  an  ominous 
sign  for  Sestrina — when  her  parent  returned  from  his 
mysterious  nocturnal  visits  into  the  mountains  he  usually 
behaved  like  a  frenzied  maniac. 

"  I  do  hope  I  shall  not  see  father  to-night,"  she 
thought,  as  she  entered  the  little  doorway  by  the  wine 
vaults,  and  then  peered  in  fright  down  the  corridor. 
She  was  no  longer  the  gay,  inconsequential  Sestrina 
whom  Clensy  had  parted  from  a  few  moments  before. 
The  Englishman  had  dispelled  all  the  heart-aching  fear 
that  had  worried  Sestrina's  mind  for  the  last  few  weeks. 
Clensy  little  dreamed  of  the  skeleton  in  the  cupboard  of 
the  Haytian  girl's  home,  how  it  haunted  her  soul  with 
a  fearful  wonder  and  terror  when  it  roamed  about  before 
her  eyes  !  Even  as  she  peered  along  the  silent  corridor 
she  gave  a  startled  jump  that  made  her  shadow  leap 
down  the  whole  length  of  the  white  wall.  A  sigh  of 
relief  escaped  her  lips — it  was  only  the  shuffling  foot- 
steps of  the  old  negro,  Charoco  ;  he  was  putting  out  the 
lights  in  the  large  rooms  from  which  the  festival  guests 
had  lately  departed.  The  next  moment  Sestrina  had 
slipped  down  the  corridor,  and  had  run  across  the  large 
drawing-room  where  she  had  to  pass  through  ere  she 
could  reach  her  chamber. 

"  Garou  I  note  !  What's  that !  "  said  a  hushed, 
hoarse  voice,  speaking  first  in  Creole  and  then  in  English. 

Sestrina  gave  an  instinctive  crouch  in  her  fright,  and 
then  swiftly  turned  round — a  dark  cloaked  figure  was 
standing  behind  her — it  was  her  father,  President 
Gravelot. 

"  I've  been  out  on  the  verandas,  it  was  so  hot  inside 
the  palace,"  said  the  girl  quickly,  for  her  parent's  face 
looked  like  the  face  of  a  fiend.  It  was  not  the  calm, 
handsome  President  that  the  Haytians  knew  by  day- 
light, but  a  demented,  bloodthirsty  fanatic  who  stared 


SESTRINA  41 

at  Sestrina  with  burning  eyes.  Sestrina  gazed  on  the 
man  in  horror.  She  had  seen  her  father  in  a  state  of 
frenzy  before,  but  that  night  he  hardly  resembled  a 
human  being  at  all.  The  bigotry  and  heathenish  lust 
of  bis  Southern  blood  shone  in  the  brilliant  cruel  gaze 
of  his  eyes.  It  was  not  the  juice  of  the  grape  that  had 
fired  the  man's  brain,  transmuting  him  from  a  human 
being  into  a  devil  of  cruelty  and  lust,  it  was  the  living 
hot  blood  mixed  with  white  rum  he  had  swallowed  that 
made  him  look  like  that.  It  was  the  blood  of  The  Goat 
without  Horns  ! — the  symbolical  term  for  the  blood  of 
little  children  and  men  and  women  who  had  been 
sacrificed  at  the  terrible  altars  of  the  vaudoux  ! 

Yes,  and  not  far  off  either,  for  the  altars  were  in  the 
secret  fetish  temples  near  the  mountains  of  Port-au- 
Prince.  President  Gravelot  was  a  devotee  to  the 
vaudoux  worship  !  It  was  a  terrible  creed,  and  though 
the  French  and  Haytian  authorities  had  taken  drastic 
measures  to  put  down  the  horrors  indulged  in  by  its 
worshippers  (the  negro  adherents  often  indulged  in 
cannibalistic  orgies  after  they  had  slain  the  sacrificial 
victims),  children  were  missing  from  their  homes  every 
week,  were  kidnapped  and  taken  away  to  the  temples 
of  the  terrible  papaloi. 

It  seemed  incredible  that  such  a  creed  should  be,  but 
Sestrina's  trembling  form,  and  the  blood-frenzied 
man  who  stood  before  her  in  the  dark  corridor 
of  her  home,  was  sufficient  evidence  of  the  terrible 
truth.  It  was  a  cruel  creed,  and  had  been  introduced 
into  Hayti  by  the  first  negro  emigrants  from  the 
West  Coast  of  Africa.  Hundreds  of  "  high  class " 
Haytians  were  staunch  adherents  to  the  vaudoux 
sacrificial  altars  and  the  monstrous  demands  of  its  deity — 
The  Goat  without  Horns.  These  altars  were  situated  as 
near  as  La  Coupe,  not  more  than  five  miles  from  Port-au- 
Prince.  And  the  fury  of  the  strange  paroxysms  that 
transformed  the  vaudoux  devotees  into  fiends  of  blood 
and  indescribable  lust  was  exemplified  by  the  distorted 


42  SESTRINA 

face  and  the  burning  eyes  of  the  soul-powerless  man 
who  stood  before  Sestrina.  The  reeking  atmosphere  of 
the  worship  clung  about  its  devotees  like  an  evil  spirit, 
the  warm  blood  of  the  victims  they  had  sacrificed  gleam- 
ing in  their  eyes.  The  frenzied  bigotry  and  uncon- 
trollable lust  of  the  vaudoux  papaloi  (head  priests) 
stopped  at  nothing  to  satisfy  their  terrible  desires.  No 
man,  woman  or  child  was  sacred  enough  to  stay  the 
knife  and  the  bloody  libations  when  once  in  the  papalois* 
merciless  grip.  Even  graves  were  desecrated  in  the 
secrecy  of  the  night.* 

"  Father !  "  whispered  Sestrina  in  her  terror.  She  saw 
a  wild  look  in  his  eyes  that  horrified  her.  She  lifted 
her  hands  as  though  she  would  ward  ofi  a  terrible 
blow.  The  gleam  of  the  fevered  eyes  sent  a  death-like 
chill  to  the  girl's  heart.  She  instinctively  realised  that 
the  personality  of  the  man  before  her  was  lost  in  some 
deadly  sleep,  though  she  did  not  dream  that  the  fumes 
that  had  done  this  thing  to  her  father  were  the  fumes 
of  human  blood  and  white  rum.  Though  Sestrina  had 
heard  the  word  "  vaudoux "  whispered  in  awestruck 
tones  by  the  negresses  and  negroes  of  the  palace,  she 
had  no  idea  as  to  what  it  really  meant.  All  she  knew 
was,  that  it  caused  madness  among  many  people,  for 
the  blood  and  rum  drinking,  and  the  strain  on  the 
vaudoux  worshippers'  frenzied  imagination,  generally 
ended  in  paralysis  and  idiocy,  and  often  in  violent 
madness. 

"  Vaudoux,  loup  garou  !  "  whispered  the  man  as  he 
stared  at  the  girl.  Then  he  seemed  slightly  to  recover 
himself. 

(*)  Several  Haytian  men  and  women  were  arrested  for  the 
murder  of  children  whom  they  had  kidnapped  and  then  offered 
up  to  the  Vaudoux  on  the  fetish  altars  somewhere  in  the  moun- 
tains near  Port-au-Prince.  One  of  the  prisoners,  a  negress, 
turned  informer  and  told  how  the  papaloi  bribed  men  to  dig  up 
the  newly  buried  dead  from  the  cemeteries,  where  many  graves 
had  been  found  disturbed. — See  "  Memoirs  of  Moreau  de  St. 
Mery." 


SESTEINA  43 

"  It's  you  !  you  !  Sestrina  !  "  he  murmured  as  the 
girl  took  his  hand  very  gently,  and  in  pathetic,  mute 
appeal  looked  up  into  her  father's  face.  Her  heart 
thumped  violently  as  she  watched  the  expression  of  his 
eyes.  Then  she  gave  a  sigh  of  relief.  And  still  she 
fawned  before  him,  caressed  his  bloodstained  hands, 
delight  on  her  troubled  face  as  she  saw  the  gleam  of 
reason  stealing  back  into  his  bloodshot  eyes. 

"  It's  me  !  me  !  "  she  whispered,  as  she  once  more 
caressed  that  hand  in  her  terrifying  eagerness  to  press 
her  advantage.  She  saw  the  look  of  recognition  leap 
into  his  eyes. 

"  Sestrina,  what  did  I  do  ?  What  have  I  said  ?  help 
me !  "  he  moaned,  as  he  leaned  forward  and  gazed  into 
the  terrified  eyes  of  his  daughter.  What  had  he  said  ? 
What  had  the  devil  that  possessed  him  muttered  for 
the  girl's  hearing  ? 

Gravelot's  stupefied  brain  had  begun  to  realise  the 
relationship  and  the  wickedness  of  his  own  terrible  nature 
as  he  threw  off  the  vile  spell  that  vaudoux  worship  had 
cast  over  him.  The  change  in  his  manner  was  swift ; 
already  the  fever  of  his  eyes  had  changed  to  a  look  of 
tenderness.  "  Go  to  bed  at  once,  Sestrina,"  he  mut- 
tered in  a  hoarse  voice  that  Sestrina  hardly  recognised. 
He  reeled  about  like  a  drunken  man  as  he  began  to  take 
off  his  flowing  cloak,  which  he  wore  as  a  disguise  when- 
ever he  stole  away  to  the  fetish  temples  in  the  moun- 
tains. 

Sestrina  fled.  In  a  moment  she  had  run  along  the 
corridor.  Entering  her  room  she  had  begun  to  cry. 
For  a  long  time  she  could  think  of  nothing  else  but  the 
terrible  expression  which  she  had  seen  on  her  father's 
face.  After  a  while  her  heart  ceased  to  thump,  and  her 
thoughts  strayed  into  more  pleasant  channels.  She 
began  to  think  of  the  young  Englishman.  "  Oh,  if  only 
I  could  fly  from  here  with  him,  elope  just  as  I  have  read 
folks  do,"  she  murmured  to  herself  as  she  rose  and  stared 
at  her  image  in  the  large  mirror.  Then  she  turned  away 


44  SESTRINA 

and  pushed  the  settee  against  the  door.  Of  late  she  had 
been  very  nervous  at  night,  and  this  nervousness  was 
due  to  her  father's  strange  madness,  which  was  becoming 
worse  of  late.  "  What  does  it  all  mean  ?  Why  does 
he  want  me  to  go  to  the  mountains  with  him  ?  Is  not 
Pere  Chaco,  the  Catholic  priest,  a  good  man  ?  Did  he 
not  bless  me  with  holy  water  and  say  beautiful  things 
about  the  world  ?  And  yet  he  flung  me  from  him, 
yes,  only  a  week  before,  and  raved  like  a  madman  when 
I  refused  to  leave  holy  Pere  Chaco,  and  go  away  into 
the  mountains  to  pray  before  strange  priests." 

As  Sestrina  mused  on,  she  began  to  remove  her  pic- 
turesque attire  ;  first  she  cast  aside  the  loose  sarong  ; 
then  she  loosened  her  under-bodice.  Her  hair  fell  in 
confusion  down  to  her  shoulders,  tumbling  in  shining 
ripples  about  her  bosom,  that  was  the  whiter  for  being 
untouched  by  the  hot  rays  of  the  tropical  sunlight. 
She  was  fast  leaving  her  girlhood  behind  ;  her  foot- 
steps, so  to  speak,  were  already  on  the  threshold  of 
womanhood,  the  rose  of  beauty  and  innocence  on  her 
lips  and  shining  in  her  eyes.  She  half  forgot  the  horror 
of  her  father's  distorted  face  as  she  gazed  at  her  image 
in  the  mirror.  Though  her  mind  was  naturally  refined, 
the  romantic  passion  of  her  Southern  ancestry  began  to 
sigh  in  its  sleep  ;  and  Sestrina's  lips  echoed  the  sigh, 
though  she  knew  not  why  they  did  so.  She  thought  of 
the  handsome  Englishman,  and  of  the  sweet  things  he 
had  whispered  into  her  ears.  She  thought  of  the  rap- 
ture of  love,  of  the  meeting  of  lips,  and  the  romantic 
sorrows  of  parted  lovers,  and  all  those  things  which  had 
influenced  her  mind  as  she  poured  over  her  French  novels. 
"  Ah  me !  "  she  sighed,  then  a  startled  look  leapt  into 
her  eyes.  She  looked  towards  the  window  in  fright. 
It  was  only  the  "  Too-whoo-bee !  "  of  the  blue-winged 
Haytian  owl  that  watched  her  from  its  perch  in  the 
mahogany  tree  just  outside.  She  opened  the  vine-clad, 
latticed  casement  wide,  and  then  stared  out  on  the 
loveliness  of  the  tropic  night.  She  could  just  see  the 


SESTRINA  45 

dark,  palm-clad  slopes  of  the  mountains,  faintly  out' 
lined  by  the  moon's  pale  light.  "  Ah,  if  he  were  only 
here,  how  happy  I  should  be !  "  she  murmured  as  she 
watched  the  swarms  of  fireflies  dancing  in  the  glooms 
of  the  bamboos,  and  then  looked  across  the  plains 
where  she  could  see  the  twinkling  lights  of  the  home- 
steads near  Gonaives.  After  that,  she  opened  a  little 
door  that  divided  her  chamber  from  another  small  room. 
It  was  where  Claircine,  the  negress,  slept. 

"  Oui,  Madamselle  Sessy !  "  said  the  ebony-hued 
negress  servant  as  she  sat  up  in  bed  and  rubbed  her 
large,  sleepy  eyes,  wondering  why  her  mistress  should 
disturb  her  at  so  late  an  hour. 

"  Claircine,  I  feel  so  unhappy." 

"  Why  so,  mamselles,  there  am  nothings  to  be  mis- 
leraable  'bout,  is  there  ?  " 

Sestrina  responded  by  giving  a  deep  sigh.  Then  the 
old  negress  started  to  gabble  away,  as  Sestrina  sat  on 
her  bed  for  companionship.  The  woman's  inconse- 
quential chatter  cheered  Sestrina. 

"  You  look  so  beautiful  nows  you  be  coming  womans," 
said  Claircine  as  she  touched  her  mistress's  mass  of 
glittering  hair  and  ran  the  shining  tresses  through  her 
dark  fingers,  and  sighed  in  the  thought  that  her  own 
locks  were  so  short  and  woolly.  "  Ah,  Sessy,  you  ams 
like  your  mother,"  said  Claircine,  who  had  been  her 
mother's  maid  from  the  time  of  Sestrina's  birth.  Then 
the  old  negress  continued :  "  She  too  had  nicer  hair 
and  white  flesh,  for  she  had  a  father  who  was  a  real 
handsome  white  mans  !  " 

After  a  while  the  conversation  changed.  Sestrina  and 
the  negress  began  whispering.  Several  times  they  glanced 
as  though  in  some  fright  towards  the  bedroom  door  as  a 
moan  came  to  their  ears.  It  was  only  the  noise  of  the 
wind  sighing  down  the  orange  groves  that  murmured  like 
sad  phantoms  just  outside  the  open  casement  as  the 
girl  and  negress  talked  on.  There  was  something  eerie 
and  dreadful  sounding  in  the  slightest  noise  that  night ! 


46  SESTRINA 

Claircine  had  also  seen  President  Gravelot  come  home 
under  the  terrible  influence  of  the  vaudoux  fetish.  The 
old  negress  had  seen  the  President  behave  like  a  maniac, 
and  had  then  seen  the  after  effects  as  he  came  round,  laid 
his  head  on  the  table,  and  moaned  in  remorseful  despair. 

"  'Tis  the  terrible,  but  wonderful  papaloi  who  he  see 
at  the  secret  mountain  temples  where  they  do  drink 
ze  blood  and  rum  ;  yes,  dey  make  your  father  look  like 
dat !  "  said  Claircine.  Then  the  negress  added  :  "  I 
no  tell  you  such  tings,  Madamselle  Sessy,  but  I  now 
tink  it  be  best  dat  you  know  such  tings  since  dat  you 
be  getting  older." 

"  Do  you  really  believe  in  such  things,  that  the  papaloi 
are  the  chosen  priests  of  the  heavens  ?  "  whispered 
Sestrina,  as  she  heard  such  things  as  she  had  never 
heard  before  or  dreamed  of.  Claircine  had  spoken  to 
the  girl  in  an  awestruck,  reverent  way,  about  the  ter- 
rible vaudoux  priests. 

"  No,  madamselle,  it  am  no  good  me  believing,  I  am 
only  low-caste,  and  so  am  not  allowed  to  attend  great 
vaudoux  worships."  Then  the  old  negress  sighed,  and 
added  :  "  If  I'd  been  good  enough,  I  would  have  marry 
handsome  Chaicko,  for  you  know  that  women  who  am 
vaudoux  worshippers  are  watched  over  by  ze  god  of  the 
Goat  without  Horns,  and  am  always  happy  in  dere  love 
affairs." 

"  Surely  you  don't  mean  that,  or  believe  that  my 
father  would  drink  human  blood  ?  "  whispered  Sestrina, 
as  she  looked  despairingly  into  the  negress's  eyes.  Her 
face  looked  pallid,  almost  death-like,  dark  rings  about 
her  eyes. 

"  Ah,  Madamselle  Sessy,  this  chile  does  believe  in  the 
greatness  of  ze  papaloi.  I  do  often  see  ze  zombis  (ghosts) 
creep  'bout  under  de  mahogany  trees  when  the  great 
papaloi  chant  in  ze  forest." 

"  But  what  about  my  father  ?  Do  you  think  that 
he  really  does  visit  these  awful  places  which  you  have 
just  described  to  me  ?  " 


SESTRINA  47 

"  P'raps  not ;  I  may  be  wrongs,  madamselle,"  said 
the  old  negress,  who  felt  upset  to  think  she  had  told  her 
innocent  charge  so  much  about  the  vaudoux.  And 
though  Claircine  rambled  on,  telling  Sestrina  many 
things  about  the  cruelty  of  the  fetish  worshippers  and 
the  attendant  superstitions  of  the  bigoted  adherents, 
she  adroitly  made  it  appear  to  Sestrina  that  she  spoke 
of  a  far-ofl  time. 

"  "Tis  not  like  that  now.  Oh,  no !  ze  officials  did 
shoot  mens  and  womens  for  drinking  ze  sacred  wines 
from  the  Goat  without  Horns,  and  so  'tis  long  past !  " 

So  did  Claircine  attempt  to  undo  the  harm  she  had 
done  by  making  Sestrina  feel  so  miserable  and  ashamed. 
But  though  the  negress  had  chatted  on  till  the  night 
grew  old,  the  girl  was  still  full  of  trouble  and  fear  over 
her  own  thoughts. 

Bewildered  over  all  she  had  heard,  Sestrina  crept 
back  to  her  chamber  to  dream  of  the  dark  papaloi  who 
chanted  somewhere  up  in  the  black  mountains.  For  a 
long  time  she  could  not  sleep.  She  thought  of  the 
terrible  look  she  had  seen  in  her  parent's  eyes,  and, 
wondering  what  was  really  the  matter  with  him,  forgot 
all  else.  For  Sestrina,  deep  down  in  her  heart,  had  a 
great  love  and  reverence  for  her  father.  "  He  looks  so 
different,  so  good  and  kind  when  the  evil  spirit  does 
not  possess  him,"  she  thought,  as  she  wiped  the  tears 
from  her  eyes.  Then  she  thought  of  the  young  English- 
man, of  his  blue  eyes,  his  manly  ways,  and  wondered 
what  he  would  have  thought  had  he  seen  her  father  that 
night !  Then  her  reflections  ran  into  a  calmer  channel, 
and  with  the  pretty  words  that  Clensy  had  whispered 
that  night  still  lingering  in  her  ears,  she  at  last  fell 
asleep. 


CHAPTER  V 

A  WEEK  after  the  events  of  the  preceding  chapter, 
Royal  Clensy  found  himself  standing  by  the  Erard 
pianoforte  in  President  Gravelot's  home.    Sestrina  had 
suddenly  developed  a  passionate  desire  to  play  and 
sing.     And  President  Gravelot,  who  was  always  eager 
to  please  the  girl  when  he  was  in  his  sane  moods,  had 
agreed  to  hire  a  teacher.     Sestrina's  face  had  looked 
very  troubled  when  she  had  approached  her  father  on 
the  matter,  for  she  did  not  like  the  idea  of  deceiving 
him.     But  she  easily  overcame  her  delicate  scruples, 
and  so,  looking  her  parent  straight  in  the  face,  she  had 
said,  "  I  much  prefer  a  white  man  as  a  teacher ;  the 
white  men  are  better  educated,  more  simple  and  refined 
in  their  manners."     And  so  the  great  coincidence  which 
usually  comes  when  the  opposite  sexes  seek  a  chance 
to  meet  each  other,  came  about.     Clensy,  of  all  men  in 
the  world,  received  a  note  from  President  Gravelot  in 
which  he  was  asked  if  he  would  accept  a  position  as 
Sestrina's  teacher  for  singing  and  pianoforte  playing ! 
The  terms  offered  were  good  too  !     When  Bartholomew 
Biglow  heard  that  Clensy  was  teaching  Sestrina  to  sing 
and  play,  he  smacked  our  hero  on  the  back  and  gazed 
on   him   with  splendid   admiration.     "  Couldn't   have 
done  it  better  myself  !  "  he  had  roared,  and  that  was  the 
greatest  compliment  the  big  man  could  pay  anyone. 
And  so,  there  sat  pretty  Sestrina,  her  heart  bubbling 
with  delight  as  her  hands  ran  along  the  ivory  keys, 
diligently  going  through  the  five-finger  exercises !    She 
had  also  arranged  that  Clensy  should  teach  her  to  sing 
from  the  tonic  sol-fa  system. 

"  No,  no !  like  this,"  said  Clensy,  as  he  forced  a 
serious  look  into  his  eyes  and  struck  the  pianoforte  keys. 

"  Ah,  monsieur,  I  see !  "  murmured  the  beautiful, 
guileless  Sestrina,  as  Clensy  wondered  what  she  would 

48 


SESTRINA  49 

think  of  the  contents  of  the  note  which  she  had 
slipped  into  the  folds  of  her  pretty  blue  sarong  a  second 
before !  They  both  had  to  be  very  careful !  Old 
Gravelot  kept  walking  into  the  room  and  went  shuffling 
about  as  though  he  was  suspicious.  His  brilliant  eyes 
certainly  did  stare  in  a  critical  manner  at  the  handsome 
music  teacher,  as  that  sanguine  worthy  leaned  over  his 
daughter  and  guided  her  fingers  along  the  keyboard, 
rippling  out  the  scales !  Clensy  knew  that  the  presi- 
dent was  all-powerful  in  Hayti,  and  that,  were  his 
suspicions  aroused,  he  would  be  shot.  True  enough, 
the  worst  construction  possible  would  be  put  on  Clensy's 
reason  for  seeking  Sestrina's  society.  Sestrina  trembled 
inwardly,  but,  like  most  women,  she  was  a  born  actress 
— she  struck  the  pianoforte  keys,  just  so  !  and  looked  as 
solemn  as  a  nun.  Then  her  father  walked  out  of  the 
room.  Oh,  the  change  in  Sestrina's  face  and  manner 
when  the  heavily- draped  curtains  divided,  and  the 
president  disappeared,  leaving  them  alone  again.  It 
was  magnificent !  The  discordant  strumming  of  the 
scales  resolved  into  the  perfect  harmony  of  living  music 
that  shone  from  Sestrina's  eyes  and  thrilled  Clensy's 
soul  with  unbounded  happiness.  Then  our  hero  took 
an  unwarrantable  liberty ;  he  leaned  forward,  struck  a 
delicious  chord  on  the  piano,  and  kissed  Sestrina's 
pretty  ear  !  Ah,  parents  of  all  countries,  beware  of 
music  teacher* !  Yes,  Royal  Clensy  was  making  good 
headway.  He  knew  that  there  was  much  wisdom  in  the 
old  saying,  "  Faint  heart  never  won  fair  lady."  It  was  a 
pretty  picture  as  he  stood  there  by  the  side  of  the  seated 
Sestrina ;  her  hands  still  rested  on  the  keys  as  she 
looked  up  into  his  face.  Her  beauty  was  the  beauty 
of  the  tropic  starry  night,  and  Clensy  was  as  fair  as  sun- 
rise on  the  morning  mountains.  His  fine  blue  eyes 
charmed  Sestrina  the  same  as  he  was  charmed  by  the 
starry  darkness  of  her  own. 

"  I   dreamed   of   you   last   night,    sweet    Sestrina.'* 
Saying  this,  Clensy  rippled  out  a  tender  cadenza. 


50  SESTRINA 

"  And  I  of  you,  monsieur !  "  sighed  the  lovely  pupil, 
as  she  dropped  her  gaze  and  gently  twiddled  her  fingers 
over  the  scales. 

"  Really  ?  and  what  did  you  dream  ?  pleasant,  I 
would !  " 

They  heard  the  tasselled  curtains,  ornamented  with 
brass,  tinkle  as  they  were  hastily  divided — the  president 
had  entered  the  room  again  ! 

"  No  !  No  !  Mademoiselle,  twice  have  I  told  you — like 
this  !  "  Once  again  Sestrina's  shining  tresses  tossed  as 
she  warbled  the  notes  of  the  tonic  sol-fa  system,  and 
ran  her  fingers  down  the  pianoforte  keys !  The  presi- 
dent lit  a  cigar,  then  shuffled  about.  Clensy  smelt  the 
richly-scented  odour  of  the  smoke  drifting  about  the 
room,  for  old  Gravelot  had  opened  the  window  wide  to 
let  the  cool  airs  drift  in  from  the  orange  groves.  And 
though  the  president  watched  with  wary  eyes,  the  calm 
expression  of  his  handsome  wrinkled  face  did  not 
change.  He  was  outwitted.  Sestrina's  voice  sounded 
sincere,  and  the  expression  on  Clensy's  serious  face 
told  of  the  phlegmatic,  unromantic  Englishman !  So 
did  Clensy  find  means  of  furthering  his  happy  courtship 
with  the  beautiful  Sestrina,  though  it  must  be  admitted 
that  the  happy  result  was  brought  about  more  through 
Sestrina's  brilliant  wit  than  Clensy's  superb  nerve. 

As  the  days  went  by,  Royal  Clensy  became  deeper 
in  love,  and  so  did  Sestrina.  And  it  must  be  admitted 
that  greater  progress  was  made  in  their  secret  court- 
Bhip  at  the  piano  than  in  Sestrina's  music-lessons. 

Adams  and  Biglow  saw  very  little  of  Clensy  at  that 
period,  for  he  would  go  strolling  about  Hayti  seeing  the 
sights  and,  presumably,  dreaming  of  Sestrina.  Indeed, 
Adams  got  a  bit  jealous  when  Clensy  hired  separate 
lodgings  just  down  the  town,  and  gave  his  reason  for 
doing  so  by  saying  that  he  was  suffering  from  insomnia. 
"  He's  getting  'igh-toned,  I  fink,  since  he  got  in  wif 
the  presydent's  darter.  Damned  if  she  won't  git  all 
'is  money  when  'is  remittance  arrives."  So  spake  the 


SESTRINA  51 

derelict  sailorman  to  Bartholomew  Biglow.  But  Biglow 
knew  human  nature  better  than  Adams  did. 

"  The  young  whippersnapper's  true  enough.  You 
haven't  been  in  love  like  him,  or  like  I  have.  It's  a 
terrible  complaint,  something  stronger  than  rum 
fumes  !  "  said  Biglow,  as  he  gave  his  fascinating  smile 
and  patted  Adams  on  the  shoulder.  And  Biglow  was 
right,  for  when  the  mail  came  in,  a  few  days  after, 
bringing  Clensy's  remittance,  Adams  got  a  fair  share 
and  had  a  regular  "  bust  up."  The  reprobate  sailor- 
man felt  remorseful  when  Clensy  behaved  so  generously, 
and  while  he  was  drunk,  kept  patting  Clensy  on  the 
back,  and  saying,  "  You're  an  honest  youth,  and,  by 
God,  you've  been  a  father  and  a  son.  It's  fact  that 
Gawd  sent  yer  to  comfort  me  in  me  ole  age."  Adams 
wasn't  all  bad,  for  he  did  mean  what  he  said.  He  couldn't 
help  being  a  cadger.  He  reminded  Clensy  of  the 
Australian  gentry  who  are  sometimes  called  larrikins, 
individuals  who  make  cadging  a  fine  art  and  always 
carry  lumps  of  blue-metal  in  their  pocket  to  throw 
if  the  stranger  will  not  part  with  his  loose  cash  or 
resents  their  appearance  in  any  way  whatsoever. 

Though  Clensy  was  a  bit  rash  with  his  remittance 
money,  he  took  good  care  to  keep  a  needful  supply  of 
cash  in  hand.  His  affection  for  Sestrina  had  made  him 
less  improvident.  Biglow  refused  to  take  one  penny 
of  Clensy's  money.  The  fact  was  that  he  had  plenty  of 
cash  in  hand  himself.  Indeed,  he  was  busy,  and  would 
go  off  on  private  business  for  a  whole  week  sometimes. 
Clensy  and  Adams  couldn't  make  out  where  he  went  to. 
All  they  knew  was,  that  he  seemed  very  flush  of  cash 
and  mightily  pleased  with  himself  when  he  returned. 
The  fact  was,  that  Biglow  was  in  league  with  the  Black 
Mountain  insurgents,  as  well  as  being  in  league  with 
the  Haytian  government  officials,  for  he  was  supplying 
the  insurgents  with  Snider  rifles  and  ammunition,  which 
had  arrived  at  Port-au-Prince  on  suspicious-looking 
schooners.  However,  Biglow's  commercial  enterprises 


52  SESTRINA 

have  little  to  do  with  all  that  happened  when  the 
revolution  broke  out  in  Hayti  some  time  afterwards, 
and  which  was  a  serious  matter  for  all  concerned.  For, 
as  has  already  been  hinted,  the  insurgents  always  razed 
the  towns  by  fire  and  murdered  half  the  population, 
sparing  neither  women  nor  children. 

One  night  Clensy  and  Biglow  were  sitting  playing 
cards  with  a  half-caste  Frenchman,  a  Monsieur  de 
Cripsny,  a  government  official,  when  Adams  suddenly 
walked  in  the  room  and  said,  "  Heard  the  noos  ?  " 

"  What  news  ?  "  exclaimed  Biglow  and  Clensy,  as 
they  looked  up  from  their  cards.  Then  Adams,  with  an 
awestruck  look  in  his  eye,  proceeded,  "  Why,  these  'ere 
damned  Hoytians  are  blasted  cannibals  ;  got  a  kinder 
relygion  that  they  call  Voody-worship  on  ther  brain." 

"  What's  that  to  do  with  us  ?  "  said  Clensy  quietly, 
as  he  puffed  his  cigarette  and  reshuffled  the  cards. 
Bartholomew  Biglow's  ears  were  alert  at  once  ;  he  lifted 
his  hand  and,  smashing  at  a  fly  that  had  settled  on 
Adams's  sweating  bald  head,  said,  "  What  have  ye 
heard  to  make  ye  so  excited,  man  ?  " 

Thereupon,  Adams  loosened  his  red  neckcloth,  and 
swallowed  the  proffered  glass  of  cognac,  began  to  gesticu- 
late and  tell  his  comrades  all  which  he  had  heard.  It 
appeared  that  Adams  had  that  same  day  heard  how 
thousands  of  the  Haytians  were  adherents  to  the  vau- 
doux- worship.  Some  one  had  told  him  how  the  vaudoux 
folk  went  in  for  bloodthirsty  orgies,  drank  human 
blood  and  sacrificed  children  on  the  fetish  altars,  doing 
such  revolting,  blood-curdling  things  as  would  have 
made  a  gre-Christian  South-Sea  islander  shiver  with 
disgust. 

De  Cripsny,  who  sat  curling  the  tips  of  his  moustachios 
while  Adams  narrated  all  that  he  had  heard  when  visit- 
ing some  grog-shanty  in  the  lower  quarter  of  the  town, 
astounded  Clensy  and  Biglow  by  calmly  corroborating 
all  that  Adams  had  told  them.  "  'Tis  nothing  new  to 
me,  monsieurs,"  said  the  half-caste  Frenchman.  Then 


SESTRINA  53 

he  calmly  sat  there  and  told  the  wondering  Englishmen 
how  many  of  the  Haytians  were  staunch  devotees  to 
vaudoux  worship,  secretly  attending  the  orgy  temples, 
which  were  situated  somewhere  by  the  mountains,  a 
few  miles  away.  De  Cripsny,  who  was  a  friend  of 
Biglow's  and  had  some  connection  with  that  worthy's 
successful  exploits  in  the  gun-running  line,  pulled  his 
moustache  and  told  Adams  to  shut  the  door.  Then  the 
Frenchman  calmly  informed  the  three  men  that  they 
were  liable  to  be  strangled  and  offered  up  as  sacrifices 
to  the  deities  of  the  vaudoux  if  they  went  into  the  forest 
near  Port-au-Prince  after  dark  ! 

Adams  opened  his  one  eye  and  his  mouth  wide.  Then 
he  hitched  his  trousers  up  and  said  he  had  been  seriously 
thinking  of  taking  to  the  sea  again  ;  "  nothing  like  the 
open  seas !  "  he  said,  as  he  looked  with  fright  at  the 
door. 

"  Don't  you  worry,  monsieurs  ;  I  tink  you  are  quite 
safe  ;  you  are  Angleseman,  and  p'r'aps  it  would  not  be 
good  for  you  to  die  on  the  vaudoux  sacrificial  altars." 

"  Thank  Gawd  for  that  much,"  exclaimed  Adams,  as 
he  took  another  drink. 

Then  de  Cripsny  told  them  that  the  authorities  had 
lately  discovered  that  many  children  were  missing  each 
week  from  the  villages  round  Port-au-Prince. 

"  What  do  you  think  has  become  of  them  ?  "  ex- 
claimed Clensy  and  Biglow. 

"  Why,  monsieurs,  they  have  surely  been  caught 
while  strolling  or  playing  in  the  jungle  and  taken  away 
to  the  mountain  temples  to  the  papaloi,  who  do  strangle 
them  and  drink  blood — like  so." 

Saying  this,  de  Cripsny  put  his  hands  out,  and,  to 
the  Englishmen's  horror,  squeezed  an  imaginary  throat, 
made  a  pass  with  his  knife,  and,  lifting  an  empty  goblet, 
illustrated  to  the  astonished  listeners  how  the  papaloi 
slit  the  victim's  throat  and  drank  their  blood  ! 

*  'Tis  mixed  with  rum  and  called  the  wine  from 
the  Goat  without  Horns." 


54  SESTRINA 

"  Surely  it's  not  possible  in  these  enlightened  times  ?  " 
said  Clensy. 

De  Cripsny  gave  a  grim  smile,  and,  taking  the  Haytian 
Press  from  his  pocket,  translated  the  following  : 

"  Anyone  giving  information  which  would  lead  to 
the  discovery  of  the  hiding-place  or  temples  of  the 
Vaudoux  worshippers  will  receive  a  reward  of  £500." 

On  hearing  this,  Biglow  brought  his  big  fist  down  on 
the  table,  crash  !  and  yelled,  "  By  the  gods  of  heathen 
lands,  we're  saved  !  Vaudoux  worship  ;  splendid  thing  ; 
we're  saved !  " 

"  Saved  ?  what  jer  mean  ?  "  said  Adams,  as  Clensy 
looked  up  and  wondered  why  the  horror  that  they  had 
just  heard  about  should  appeal  to  that  capacious  intel- 
lect as  a  blessing  instead  of  a  curse. 

"  Five  hundred  pounds  reward !  It's  mine !  " 
reiterated  Biglow. 

"  Yours !  Ours !  "  gasped  Adams  and  Clensy,  as 
they  both  realised  that  their  sanguine,  uproarious 
comrade  had  got  an  idea  in  his  head  that  he  could 
discover  the  vaudoux  miscreants  and  receive  the  reward. 

"  Yes,  mine  !  "  replied  Biglow,  as  he  swallowed  his 
grog.  Then  he  burst  into  song.  His  hilarity  was  con- 
tagious. Adams  lost  his  woebegone  expression.  In 
IBSS  than  ten  minutes  they  all  felt  assured  that  they 
were  not  only  safe  from  the  terrors  of  the  vaudoux,  but 
were  likely  to  receive  a  portion  of  the  reward  that 
Biglow  seemed  so  certain  of  obtaining. 

It  was  at  this  moment  that  de  Cripsny  looked  up  and 
said,  "  It  is  mostly  the  high-class  Haytians  and  negroes 
who  are  adherents  to  the  vaudoux" 

"  Not  surprising,"  replied  Biglow,  as  he  rubbed  his 
hands,  his  face  flushed  through  the  intense  enthusiasm 
of  his  thoughts. 

Then  de  Cripsny  stared  hard  at  his  three  companions, 
and  continued,  "  Would  you  be  surprised  to  hear  that 
President  Gravelot  is  King  of  the  vaudoux  worshippers  ?  " 


SESTRINA  55 

Clensy  visibly  paled.  In  a  flash  he  realised  that  he 
was  in  Hayti,  and  nothing  in  the  way  of  surprises  was 
impossible.  Bartholomew  Biglow,  on  hearing  the  last 
bit  of  information,  behaved  in  his  usual  boisterous 
manner ;  de  Cripsny  dodged  his  head,  and  Adams  and 
Clensy  fell  under  the  table,  but  by  a  miracle  none  of 
fhem  were  hurt.  Biglow,  who  had  suddenly  knocked 
the  table  over  to  emphasise  his  surprise,  immediately 
grabbed  it  and  stood  it  up  on  its  legs  again.  De  Cripsny 
looked  quite  spiteful  as  he  rose  to  his  feet  and  stared 
about  him  with  his  brilliant  small  eyes. 

"  I  speak  truth  only,  and  then  you  go  and  knock 
table  over  and  nearly  kills  me.  Why  so  ?  You  English- 
man are  too  rude  and  noisy  to  speak  to." 

"  Beg  pardon,  Crippy,  old  pal,"  said  Biglow,  as  he 
patted  the  incensed  Frenchman  on  the  back  and  soon 
soothed  his  ruffled  feelings.  Once  more  the  four  seated 
themselves.  Then  de  Cripsny  began  to  tell  them  a 
lot  about  the  vaudoux  horrors,  and  hinted  that  many  of 
the  high  officials  of  the  government  were  adherents  to 
the  fetish  creed  and  cannibals.  He  even  hinted  that 
many  of  the  Haytian  ladies  were  in  with  the  papaloi 
and  attended  the  fetish  dances,  giving  themselves  up 
to  all  the  abandonment  that  the  rites  of  the  fetish 
demanded.  When  the  Frenchman  leaned  across  the 
table  and  hinted  that  President  Gravelot's  daughter, 
Sestrina,  was  possibly  a  vaudoux  worshipper,  Clensy 
had  great  difficulty  in  controlling  himself. 

"  Have  you  proof  of  such  things  ?  "  he  demanded,  his 
voice  quite  hoarse-sounding. 

"  No,  monsieur,  but  I  say  'tis  possible,  dat  is  all." 
This   admission   eased   Clensy's   mind   considerably. 
Then  de  Cripsny,  who  seemed  to  love  to  illustrate  the 
horrors  of    all  that   he  was    telling  the    Englishmen, 
said,  "  If  I  do  not  speak  truth,  then  I  cut  mines  throat 
like  dis  " — thereupon  he  drew  an  imaginary  knife  across 
his  skinny  throat. 
As  the  conversation  proceeded,  Biglow  tried  to  get 


56  SESTRINA 

information  from  de  Cripsny  as  to  where  he  thought  the 
vaudoux  temples  were.  The  Frenchman  only  shook  his 
head  and  seemed  to  be  unable  to  give  Biglow  any  useful 
information.  It  is  quite  possible  that  de  Cripsny  was 
ignorant  as  to  where  such  temples  existed.  Though 
de  Cripsny  had  been  a  government  official  for  many 
years,  he  knew  very  little  about  the  doings  of  the  people 
or  of  Haytian  politics  proper.  He  had  been  superinten- 
dent of  the  burial  of  the  dead  in  the  great  malaria 
plague  of  nineteen  years  before,  when  an  official  had  to 
be  appointed  to  see  that  the  death-carts  called  at  the 
homes  of  the  victims  and  gave  the  dead  immediate 
burial  in  the  cemeteries.  And  though  the  plague  had 
long  since  passed  away — indeed,  had  become  a  dim, 
grim  memory  to  the  Haytians— de  Cripsny  had  still 
remained  in  office  till  about  three  weeks  before  Clensy 
met  him.  De  Cripsny  might  have  been  a  splendid 
example  of  the  latest  thing  in  government  officials  of 
civilised  lands  had  he  not  have  been  dismissed,  only 
three  weeks  before,  because  he  had  omitted  to  attend  to 
his  duties.  For  years  and  years  he  had  drawn  up  his 
weekly  report  on  the  blue  government  forms,  rilling 
them  in  so — "  Deaths  from  malaria,  none.  .  All  buried 
according  to  Act  9,  Statute  14.  Disinfected  death- 
carts  and  burnt  victims'  clothing."  But  through  illness 
he  had  not  rilled  in  the  usual  form,  and  this,  having 
been  noticed  by  some  alert  official,  had  been  the  means 
of  his  dismissal  from  office.  Even  Bartholomew  gave  a 
loud  guffaw  when  de  Cripsny,  after  giving  him  the 
aforesaid  information  about  his  own  private  affairs, 
suddenly  said,  "  But,  monsieurs,  I  care  not  that  I  am 
dismissed  from  office." 

"  How's  that,  Crippy,  old  chum  ?  "  exclaimed  Biglow. 

Then  the  Frenchman  informed  them  that  his  grand- 
father had  been  sanitary  inspector  of  the  high-roads  in 
Hayti  for  thirty  years,  and  though  he  had  been  dead 
twenty-one  years,  he,  de  Cripsny,  his  grandson,  still 
received  the  old  man's  salary,  no  one  having  missed  his 


SESTRINA  57 

grandfather,  or  noticed  any  neglect  of  his  duties  as 
inspector  of  roads  in  Port-au-Prince.  Ask  Haytians 
why  they  do  not  clean  or  mend  their  streets,  they 
answer,  "  "  Bon  Dieu,  gate  li  ;  bon  Dieu  pare  U  "  ("  God 
spoilt  them,  and  God  will  mend  them  ").  So  de  Cripsny 
was  not  a  man  of  deep  integrity,  neither  did  he  trouble 
himself  to  delve  deeply  into  the  mysteries  of  the  vaudoux. 
His  information  was  something  that  could  have  been 
given  to  Biglow  and  Clensy  by  any  negro  in  Hayti. 
Only  a  few  days  before,  a  nurse  had  been  out  walking 
on  the  Champs  dc  Mars  when  a  huge  negro,  who  had 
presumably  been  prowling  about  on  watch,  suddenly 
snatched  a  white  child  from  her  arms  and  ran  off  with 
it  into  the  forest.  The  child  was  never  seen  again. 
And  more  :  It  was  known  that  human  flesh,  dried  and 
salted  in  tubs,  was  for  sale  in  the  markets  of  Port-au- 
Prince  !  When  Clensy  and  Biglow  were  given  these 
unappetising  bits  of  information  about  the  revolting 
practices  of  the  lower  orders  of  the  vaudoux,  they 
thought  more  than  their  tongues  could  adequately 
express  on  the  matter. 

When  Clensy  arrived  back  at  his  lodgings  that  night, 
he  turned  about  and  tossed  on  his  bed,  and  could  not 
sleep.  De  Cripsny's  hint  that  many  of  the  Haytian 
ladies  went  in  for  fetish  dancing  and  the  terrible 
debauchery  of  the  vaudoux,  had  upset  his  mind.  He 
thought  of  President  Gravelot's  jealous  care  over  his 
daughter's  life,  and  how  Sestrina  was  seldom  allowed 
out  without  being  accompanied  by  the  negress  servant. 

"  A  man  who  is  particular  like  that  is  not  likely  to 
persuade  his  daughter  to  attend  cannibal  fetishes  ! — 
impossible !  "  Then  he  thought  of  Sestrina's  eyes,  hei 
innocent  ways,  her  girlish  laughter  and  tears,  for  some- 
times she  had  wept  while  in  his  company.  "  Never ! 
the  last  girl  in  the  world  to  succumb  to  the  temptations 
of  her  father,  however  much  she  respected  his  wishes." 
So  thought  Royal  Clensy  in  the  final  summing  up  of 
his  haunting  thoughts  about  Sestrina  and  the  possibility 


58  SESTRINA 

of  her  being  an  adherent  to  the  vaudoux.  "  She's  too 
wide-minded,  too  pure  in  heart  and  soul  to  kneel  before 
the  altars  of  cruelty  and  lust !  "  Then  the  young  English- 
man pulled  the  mosquito  curtain  together  and  settled 
himself  for  sleep,  happy  in  the  thought  that  Sestrina 
was  innocent.  And  he  was  right. 


CHAPTER  VI 

TWO  nights  after  de  Cripsny  had  given  the  three 
Englishmen  the  information  about  vaudoux 
worship,  Clensy,  who  had  been  haunting  the  vicinity  of 
the  presidential  palace  grounds,  met  Sestrina.  She  had 
managed  to  slip  out  of  the  palace  unobserved.  She 
was  trembling  in  her  delight. 

"  Away,  Monsieur  Royal,  away  from  here,  or  we  be 
seen !  "  she  whispered  as  she  gazed  appealingly  up  into 
Clensy's  face. 

"  Where  shall  we  go,  Sestrina  ?  "  said  the  young 
Englishman,  as  he  tenderly  gripped  the  Haytian  girl's 
arm  and  stared  about  him. 

"  Away  to  the  forest,  the  orange  groves  at  H ; 

anywhere  away  from  here  !  "  said  Sestrina,  as  she  looked 
around  with  frightened  eyes,  waved  her  arms,  and  then 
pointed  towards  the  big  mahogany  trees  in  the  direction 
of  Gonaives.  The  aftermath  of  the  sunset  had  left  a 
blue  twilight  in  the  skies,  which  were  faintly  dazzled 
with  the  gleams  of  a  thousand  stars.  In  a  moment 
they  had  passed  away  into  the  shadows. 

"  Oh,  glad  am  I  to  be  away  from  the  palace  walls. 
You  be  killed,  monsieur,  if  they  see  you  there  !  "  said 
Sestrina,  as  she  fondly  pressed  Clensy's  arm  over  the 
thought  that  harm  should  come  to  him  through  her. 

In  less  than  half  an  hour  Clensy  and  Sestrina  sat  in 
the  seclusion  of  the  mahogany  trees.  He  felt  happy. 
He  had  long  since  banished  all  ideas  of  the  vaudoux 


SESTRINA  59 

from  his  head.  If  the  remotest  suspicion  over  the 
possibilities  of  Sestrina  being  interested  in  the  fetish 
creeds  remained  in  his  head,  one  glance  from  her  eyes 
dispelled  it.  He  was  in  an  emotional,  poetic  mood, 
and  so  he  made  passionate  love  to  the  girl  beside  him. 
Lave  is  a  contagious  complaint  when  the  first  afflicted 
is  handsome  and  tenderly  persuasive.  Could  anyone 
have  seen  Sestrina  and  Clensy,  as  they  sat  on  the  dead 
palm  stem  that  night,  it  would  have  been  hard  to  tell 
which  one  was  in  the  most  advanced  stage  of  the 
romantic  malady.  Sestrina's  eyes  sparkled  like  diamonds, 
and  Clensy's  surely  rivalled  those  lovely  gems  of  warm, 
li ving  light,  when  he  gazed  into  her  face  and  sighed. 

"Ah,  you  do  not  mean  these  nice  things  you  say," 
murmured  Sestrina. 

"  'Tis  true  !  I  should  never  be  happy  again  if  we 
were  parted,"  replied  the  enraptured  Clensy.  And  then 
he  softly  slipped  one  arm  about  her  waist,  and  drew 
her  face  near  to  his  own,  and  in  the  rapture  of  a  strong 

man's But  why  pry  into  the  secret,  incane,  but 

innocent  actions  of  these  lovers  ?  No  vulgar  in- 
quisitiveness  stained  the  purity  of  their  wonderful 
belief  in  each  other. 

"  Ah,  Sestrina,  you  are  more  beautiful  than  I  dreamed, 
even  when  I  first  saw  you,"  he  said  in  a  reflective  way, 
as  he  thought  how  the  girl's  merry  manner  at  the 
pianoforte  had  slightly  led  his  thoughts  astray.  It  was 
not  boldness  at  all,  it  was  only  the  boisterous  innocence 
of  the  girl's  warm  heart  that  made  her  respond  so 
readily  to  his  impassioned  advances.  As  she  sat  there, 
under  the  mahogany  tree,  chatting  about  her  pet 
parrots,  the  characters  in  her  novels,  and  confiding 
little  domestic  matters  to  him,  he  discovered  how 
really  innocent  and  romantic  her  mind  was. 

"  This  beautiful  creature  a  vaudoux  worshipper ! 
Oh,  traitor  to  her  memory !  to  have  had  such  dreadful 
suspicions,"  muttered  his  mental  remorse.  "  You  are 
the  loveliest  woman  on  earth  !  "  he  exclaimed. 


60  SESTRINA 

Poor  Clensy,  there's  no  doubt  he  was  feeling  badly 
in  love  to  say  such  things.  But  he  meant  what  he  said, 
the  same  as  thousands  of  men  have  meant  the  same 
strange  things.  The  girl's  personality  enchanted  him, 
had  appealed  to  the  best  that  was  in  him,  and  so  had 
made  him  a  child  again. 

"  Have  you  never  seen  nice  girls,  like  me,  Monsieur 
Royal  ?  "  murmured  Sestrina,  as  she  gazed  in  wonder 
on  his  face. 

"  No,  I  never  have,  never !  "  was  Clensy's  emphatic 
reply,  as  he  pressed  his  advantage,  Sestrina  had 
taken  a  flower  from  her  hair  and  was  fastening  it  on 
to  the  lapel  of  his  coat,  and,  as  she  leaned  forward,  he 
kissed  her  brow  and  touched  her  shining  tresses  with  his 
lips. 

"  But  surely  there  are  beautiful  girls  in  Angleterre ! 
I've  read  about  them  in  books,"  murmured  the  pretty 
Haytian  maid  as  she  looked  up  into  Clensy's  face  in  a 
wistful  way. 

"  Ah,  Sestrina,  but  the  authors  of  those  books,  which 
you  say  you  have  read,  have  never  been  to  Hayti  and 
sat  beneath  the  starlit  mahogany  trees  with  you !  " 

Sestrina  seemed  to  like  that  explanation  immensely. 
Her  eyes  shone  with  delight,  as  the  pale  gleams  from  the 
rising  moon  dripped  like  silver  through  the  overhanging 
boughs  and  tropical  loveliness  of  the  mahogany  trees. 
It  was  easy  enough  to  see  that  the  girl  was  deeply  in 
love  with  the  young  Englishman.  She  opened  her  eyes 
and  stared  like  a  pleased,  wondering  child,  and  then  she 
did  exactly  that  which  Clensy  asked  her  to  do — lifted 
one  pretty  sandalled  foot  up  so  that  he  might  kiss  her 
ankle.  It  was  a  pretty  ankle,  no  mistake  about  that. 
But,  oh,  propriety !  Oh,  self-respecting  maidenhood, 
alas  !  where  wert  thou  at  that  moment  ? 

"  It's  not  wrong,  Monsieur  Royal,  to  do  that,  is  it  ?  " 
she  whispered  as  she  quickly  dropped  her  foot  and 
arranged  the  delicate  fringe  of  her  sarong.  She  looked 
Clensy  straight  in  the  eyes.  He  made  no  reply.  The 


SESTRINA  61 

first  rapture  that  followed  his  impulsive  act  and  the 
Budden  serious  stare  of  Sestrina's  eyes  as  she  asked  that 
question,  rendered  him  speechless.  In  a  flash  he  had 
realised  that  his  mind,  compared  with  the  girl's  beside 
him,  was  full  of  sin. 

'"I  always  go  and  confess  everything  to  kind  Pere 
Chaco,  the  priest,  so  I  must  be  careful,  you  know," 
murmured  Sestrina  in  a  meditative  way,  as  though 
addressing  her  own  reflections. 

"  Do  you  really  ?  "  said  Clensy,  as  he  turned  his  eyes 
away  and  stared  thoughtfully  into  the  shadows  of  the 
forest.  Then  as  he  sighed  and  gazed  at  the  girl  again, 
she  placed  her  ringer  to  her  lips  and  gave  Clensy  a 
coquettish  glance. 

"  Why  do  you  dream  ?  "  said  Sestrina  softly,  as  she 
noticed  how  quiet  he  had  suddenly  become. 

"  I  cannot  help  dreaming  while  in  your  presence, 
Sestrina." 

"  My  father  will  be  very  angry  if  he  discovers  that  I 
have  been  out  so  late,"  said  the  girl. 

"  Is  your  father  religious  and  good  like  you,  Ses- 
trina ?  "  said  Clensy  swiftly,  taking  advantage  of  the 
opportunity  to  get  Sestrina's  private  opinion  of  her 
parent. 

"  Yes,  he  is  very  religious,  but  he  does  not  go  to  kind 
P&re  Chaco  as  he  once  did,"  replied  the  girl,  as  she 
swung  her  foot  and  sighed. 

Clensy  did  not  press  his  advantage.  He  saw  by  the 
girl's  manner  that,  whatever  her  father's  sins  were,  she 
was  not  a  party  to  them.  As  they  sat  there  conversing, 
Clensy  tried  to  probe  the  Haytian  girl's  mind.  He 
asked  her  many  questions,  and  found  that  she  was  a 
child  so  far  as  her  knowledge  of  the  world  was  concerned. 
Her  manner  and  her  girlish  views  charmed  him.  She 
had  not  gripped  him  by  the  arm  and,  in  fierce  accents, 
tense  with  emotion,  started  to  declaim  materialistic 
mad  views  on  social  questions.  She  did  not  jump  to 
her  feet  and,  with  flashing  eyes  and  chin  thrust  towards 


62  SESTRINA 

his  face  in  magnificent  female  aggressiveness,  reveal 
some  bitterness  which  rankled  in  her  irate  soul  over 
some  peculiar  notion  that  resembled  a  kink  in  the 
brain.  She  had  simply  let  Clensy  touch  her  brow  with 
his  lips,  and  had  said,  "  I  know  so  little  about  the  world 
and  vhese  things  which  you  ask  me  ;  all  I  really  know  is, 
that  you  have  made  me  feel  happy."  Then  she  had 
looked  quietly  into  his  face  for  a  moment  and  added : 
"  It's  so  good  of  God  to  let  me  meet  you  like  this,  and 
I'm  sure  Pere  Chaco  won't  mind."  And  so  the  fragile 
girl  had  conquered.  With  the  almighty  power  of  her 
own  innocence  she  had  accomplished  that  which  a 
thousand  designing,  worldly  women  could  never  have 
accomplished.  She  held  Clensy's  life  in  the  rapture  of 
a  merciless  grip.  The  young  Englishman  was  doomed  ! 
He  at  once  robed  the  girl  in  all  the  religious  glamour 
that  his  mind  was  capable  of  conjuring  up.  She  sat 
there  beneath  the  mahogany  trees,  clothed  in  those 
lovely  symbols  of  wistful  beauty  that  come  to  the  minds 
of  men  who  aspire  to  find  the  world's  best  in  woman ; 
his  mind  exalted  her  from  the  ruck  of  mere  woman  into 
some  goddess-creature,  possessing  attributes  divine. 
Sestrina  did  not  realise  her  great  victory  over  Clensy. 

"  Wonderful !  beautiful  !  clever  too."  Though  Royal 
Clensy  had  never  heard  Sestrina  make  one  remark 
that  could  be  construed  as  "  clever  "  by  a  worldly  or 
deadly  sane  man,  she  had  set  her  magic  seal  on  his  soul. 
From  that  moment  it  was  Sestrina's  advice  and  views 
that  would  impress  him  more  than  the  advice  of  great 
philosophers.  Had  he  been  writing  a  book  or  building 
a  new  kind  of  house,  he  would  have  yearned  to  plan 
the  book's  plot  or  build  the  house  according  to  Sestrina's 
views  on  the  matter.  Old  men  who  took  snuff  and 
weighed  their  words  well  and  wisely  before  they  spoke, 
would  tug  their  beards  of  wisdom — in  vain !  Clensy 
would  have  none  of  them !  And,  in  the  inscrutable 
wonder  of  simple  things,  it  is  quite  possible  that  Ses- 
trina's advice  would  have  been  the  wisest  of  all !  And 


SESTRINA  63 

so,  when  Sestrina  once  more  reminded  Clensy  of  the 
swift  flight  of  time,  he  at  once  realised  that  she  was  the 
wiser  of  the  two.  The  next  moment  he  was  gallantly 
fastening  the  pin  of  the  pretty  ornament  that  kept  the 
folds  of  her  sarong  in  place.  Then,  without  any  undue 
argument,  he  obediently  began  to  brush  the  green  fern 
spores  and  leaves  from  her  tresses. 

"  Ah,  'twould  be  most  awful  should  they  see  me 
return  home  so  late  with  moss  in  my  hair  and  grass  and 
leaves  on  my  sarong"  murmured  Sestrina. 

"  It  would  indeed,"  said  dull-witted  Clensy,  as  he 
brushed  the  girl  down,  his  hands  gliding  over  her  as 
though  she  were  some  misty  wraith  standing  in  the  pale 
moonlight  of  the  forest  gloom.  Then  they  hastened 
away  under  the  tall  trees,  and  stole  down  the  orange 
groves  by  Selle  gully.  When  they  arrived  near  the 
palace,  they  stood  under  the  palms  and  whispered  in- 
sane farewells.  Again  Clensy  bowed  before  the  wisdom 
of  Sestrina's  advice. 

"  Ah,  monsieur,  we  may  not  stand  here  for  ever 
saying  good  night." 

And  so  they  parted.  In  a  few  moments  Sestrina  had 
slipped  unobserved  into  the  silent  palace,  and  Royal 
Clensy  walked  away  under  the  mahogany  trees,  and 
seemed  to  tread  on  air. 

\ 
***** 

"  Ah,  Claircine,  he  is  indeed  beautiful,  and  there  is 
no  need  for  such  alarm." 

So  spake  Sestrina,  for  when  she  had  run  along  the 
corridor  and  entered  her  chamber,  she  found  the  old 
negress  Claircine  anxiously  awaiting  her.  Sestrina, 
who  had  just  told  the  negress  that  she  had  been  in  the 
palace  grounds  singing  to  herseK  and  gazing  at  the 
moon,  hung  her  head  in  shame. 

"  Alas,  madamselle,  here  ams  another — and  yet 
another !  'Tis  as  plain  as  ze  plainest  ting  can  be  !  " 
said  the  shocked  Claircine  as  she  held  another  small 


64  SESTRINA 

fern  leaf  and  bits  of  dead  grass  up  to  the  light  of  the 
hanging  oil-lamp  and  examined  it  critically  with  her 
large  dark  eyes.  Oh,  infatuated,  dull-witted  Clensy ! 
careless  betrayer  of  innocent  woman,  such  was  thy 
handiwork !  And  what  did  poor  betrayed  Sestrina  do 
at  this  incriminating  evidence  of  her  guilt  ?  She  threw 
her  arms  about  the  negress  and  wailed  : 

"  Sweet,  dear  Claircine,  you  will  never,  never  tell  on 
poor  Sestrina  ?  " 

Claircine  rolled  her  eyes  for  very  joy,  and  then  shook 
her  head  in  a  kind,  chiding  way.  Though  Claircine  was 
an  inveterate  scandal-monger,  she  loved  Sestrina  and 
secretly  yearned  to  hear  that  which  she  expected  to 
hear  at  that  moment.  Claircine  lifted  her  hands  to 
the  ceiling  and  looked  terribly  shocked  when  Sestrina 
had  finished  telling  her  the  truth.  Then  Sestrina,  find- 
ing that  Claircine  was  sympathetic  with  her,  went  into 
ecstasies  over  Clensy's  perfections. 

"  But  all  ze  maids  do  tink  that  each  man  who  dey 
know,  and  who  say  nicer  tings  'bout  them,  is  de  one 
best  mans,  and  full  of  nobblyness,"  reiterated  Claircine 
as  she  rolled  her  eyes  till  the  whites  expressed  her 
scepticism  over  the  virtues  of  mankind. 

"  Ah,  you  will  see  him  some  day,  and  then  you  will 
surely  believe  me  when  you  see  for  yourself,"  said 
Sestrina,  as  she  stood  before  her  mirror  and  swerved 
slightly  so  as  to  convince  herself  that  Clensy  had  really 
meant  all  he  had  said  about  her  hair  and  her  beauty. 
Sestrina  was  really  modest,  and,  being  really  pretty, 
was  dubious  about  her  good  looks. 

"  Ah,  madamselle,  you  am  bootiful's  enough,"  said 
the  negress,  then  she  put  her  dark  skinny  hand  against 
her  chin  in  a  meditative  way,  and  said :  "  This  young 
Englishmans  may  be  one  really  nice  mans  ;  de  good 
God  must  surely  'ave  made  one  good  white  mans  to 
walk  ze  earth,"  said  Claircine,  then  she  solemnly  added : 
"  Yet  it  would  be  most  strange  if  he  should  come  here, 
to  Hayti." 


SESTRINA  65 

The  expression  on  the  cynical  old  negress's  face  was 
utterly  lost  On  Sestrina,  who,  suddenly  remembering, 
burst  out :  "  Oh,  how  foolish  of  me  to  forget ;  why, 
Claircine,  he  has  seen  you  and  you  have  seen  him !  " 

"  And  de  debil  wheres  ?  "  exclaimed  Claircine. 

"  Why,  it  is  Monsieur  Clensy  !  " 

"*'  Ze  gods  in  heaven !  You  do  not  mean  the  music- 
teacher  ?  "  gasped  the  astounded  Claircine. 

"  Him  and  no  other  !  "  exclaimed  Sestrina.  Then  the 
girl  swiftly  added,  for  she  was  anxious  that  Claircine 
should  feel  friendly  towards  Clensy,  "  Why,  he  said  to 
me,  only  this  night,  '  Ah,  I  remember  her  whom  you 
call  Claircine  ;  she  has  kind,  beautiful  eyes  and  a  face 
that  tells  me  she  might  be  a  good  friend  to  you  and  me.' ' 

Claircine,  at  hearing  this,  opened  her  mouth  and 
revealed  all  her  white  teeth  in  one  broad  grin. 

"  P'r'aps  he  is  one  good  mans.  I  somehow  tink  that 
he  is  good  mans,"  she  said,  and  then  she  too  turned  and 
gazed  into  the  mirror. 

After  that  Sestrina  and  Claircine  talked  over  the 
matter  till  far  into  the  night.  Then  the  negress  kissed 
her  mistress's  hand  and,  opening  the  small  door  that 
led  from  the  chamber,  crept  into  her  own  room  to  sleep. 

Sestrina  retired  to  bed,  feeling  very  happy  in  the 
thought  that  Claircine  had  promised  to  be  a  friend  to  her 
and  Clensy. 

And  Clensy  ?  Immediately  he  arrived  back  in  his 
lodgings  after  leaving  Sestrina,  he  stole  away  into  a 
vast,  solitary  dream-world  of  his  own,  a  world  whereon 
only  one  other  than  himself  breathed — and  that  was 
Sestrina.  And  as  he  dreamed  by  the  musical  fountains, 
Sestrina  came  back  to  him  in  shadowy  form.  She 
tempted  his  soul  with  the  magical  fruit  from  the  Tree 
of  Knowledge — not  the  forbidden  fruit,  but  the  rosy, 
wine-scented  apples  that  hung  from  the  phantom 
branches  of  beauty  and  romance.  Clensy  seemed  to 
come  under  some  mystical  spell  as  he  dreamed  on.  He 
fancied  he  could  hear  and  see  Sestrina  as  she  stole  down 


66  SESTRINA 

some  memory  on  sandalled  feet,  singing  by  a  murmuring 
sea-shore,  the  light  of  the  stars  in  her  eyes,  the  rose  of 
beauty  on  her  lips.  It  was  not  so  strange  that  he 
should  have  such  wild  fancies,  for  Clensy  was  a  believer 
in  the  reincarnation  theory  and  in  anything  that 
seemed  more  hopeful  than  the  dubious  possibility  of  the 
resurrection  of  dead  bones.  He  had  also  come  across 
a  book  in  Acapulco  which  had  greatly  impressed  him, 
since  it  told  him  that  five  hundred  millions  of  mortals 
who  dwelt  in  the  wise  East,  believed  in  the  reincarnation 
and  transmigration  of  souls.  Adams  had  wondered 
what  on  earth  our  hero  was  reading  about  when  he  had 
sat  up  all  night  dipping  into  the  pages  of  magic  that 
told  the  mysteries  of  old  Japan  and  the  ancient  Eastern 
creeds.  It  was  no  trouble  for  Clensy  to  reverse  the 
mythical  significance  of  Greek  sculptural  art,  such  as 
the  god  Hypnus  with  his  two  children,  sleep  and  death, 
holding  inverted  torches  in  their  hands.  Clensy  felt 
assured  that  he  had  known  the  oblivion  of  Lethe's  dark 
stream,  and  yet  could  remember  a  life  across  the  ages 
where  he  had  eaten  the  golden  apples  of  the  Hesperides. 

"  It's  better  to  think  the  Fates  have  honoured  me 
with  the  immortality  of  mortality,  so  that  I  can  at  least 
feel  assured  of  the  mortality  that  dreams  immortality, 
far  better  than  believing  in  the  dubious  things  people 
seem  to  believe  in,"  he  mused. 

And  as  he  sat  there,  indulging  in  strange  metaphysics, 
hobnobbing  with  Semiramis  and  a  few  Assyrian  kings 
and  queens  he  had  known  somewhere  away  in  the  back- 
ground of  his  creed,  he  dropped  his  pipe  from  his  listless 
fingers — crash !  on  the  floor,  and  the  sound  wimbled 
like  an  avalanche  down  the  corridors  of  his  dreaming 
mind.  The  visions  vanished.  Adams's  solitary  eye 
loomed  before  him ;  back  came  the  fetid  smells  and 
wretchedness  of  a  present  existence,  making  Clensy 
shiver  as  though  with  cold. 

"  God  forbid  that  this  is  the  great  reality  of  life,  and 
not  the  illusive  dream !  "  he  muttered,  as  he  silently 


SESTRINA  67 

cursed  the  dab  of  that  great  sponge  of  reality  which 
had  swept  across  the  mirror  and  had  shown  him 
such  beautiful  dreams. 

It  was  only  natural  that  Clensy's  metaphysical  specu- 
lations should  give  him  kaleidoscopic  glimpses  of 
physical  beauty  and  not  glimpses  of  visionary  beauty, 
which  men  associate  with  the  heavens.  For  to  believe 
in  the  incarnation  of  the  soul  is  to  believe  in  the  im- 
mortality of  the  flesh.  Clensy  realised  this,  and  often 
tried  to  explore  the  depths  of  his  own  mind,  but  in- 
variably returned  to  the  upper  regions  with  a  sigh,  con- 
vinced that  he  was  his  own  heaven  and  hell.  "  It's 
no  good,  I'm  a  sinner  ;  the  beauty  of  that  which  I  can 
see  and  feel  is  greater  than  that  which  I  must  imagine." 
So  he  mused  in  his  foolishness,  unable  to  read  his  own 
soul.  But  do  not  condemn  Clensy.  He  was  young ; 
the  fires  of  youth  ran  molten  in  his  veins.  The  great 
alchemist,  Sorrow,  had  not  yet  knocked  at  his  door, 
bringing  those  phials  and  magic  potions  that  transmute 
paen  and  women  into  their  older,  other  selves — some- 
times changing  them  into  Angels  and  sometimes  Devils. 


CHAPTER  VII 

"  TTULLO,  boy!  how's  the  wind  blowing  ?  "  said  the 

JL  A  boisterous  Bartholomew  Biglow  when  he  met 
Clensy  a  week  after  the  young  Englishman  had  betrayed 
Sestrina,  through  so  carelessly  brushing  the  fern  and 
dead  leaf  from  her  sarong. 

"  I  wish  the  wind  would  blow  a  bit  cooler,"  replied 
Clensy  as  he  fanned  his  perspiring  face  with  his  silk 
handkerchief. 

"  Thank  God  you're  alive  and  up  where  the  wind 
blows  !  "  said  Biglow  as,  to  Clensy's  great  relief,  he 
released  his  vigorous  grip  from  his  hand. 

**  You  might  lift  your  hat  or  blow  me  a  friendly  kiss 


68  SESTRINA 

when  we  meet,"  said  Clensy,  as  he  spread  his  tingling 
fingers  out  and  made  a  wry  face. 

"  Would  you  like  to  come  with  me  on  a  splendid 
adventure,  something  that  will  interest  you,  a  sight  to 
please  the  gods  while  the  Haytian  ladies  exhibit  their 
dusky  charms  as  they  do  the  chica  dance  before  dear, 
nice,  religious  old  men." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  It  sounds  interesting,  1 
admit,"  said  Clensy,  as  he  looked  calmly  into  the  hand' 
some  flushed  face  of  his  strange  comrade. 

"  I  mean  that  I've  got  a  pretty  good  idea  where  at 
least  one  of  the  vaudoux  temples  is  situated." 

Then  Biglow  told  Clensy  that  he  had  received  certain 
information,  and  meant  to  go  off  into  the  mountains 
without  delay  to  try  and  get  a  glimpse  of  the  terrible 
papaloi  and  see  what  really  happened  when  they  at- 
tended the  rites  of  their  creed. 

"  We'll  see  a  sight,  as  well  as  receiving  the  reward 
that's  offered  !  "  said  Biglow,  giving  one  of  his  magnifi- 
cent winks. 

"  Isn't  it  a  bit  risky  ?  "  said  Clensy,  as  he  thought 
of  all  he  had  heard  about  the  vaudoux  horrors,  and 
imagined  what  desperate  characters  men  must  be  who 
attended  such  revolting  orgies. 

Biglow  pooh-poohed  Clensy's  misgivings. 

"  You  can  either  come  or  stop  away.  I'm  going  to- 
morrow, and  Adams  is  coming  with  me." 

Saying  this,  Biglow  shrugged  his  shoulders  and 
again  waited  Clensy's  reply. 

Clensy  was  not  a  coward,  neither  was  he  a  fool ;  he 
knew  that  a  reward  of  five  hundred  pounds  would  not 
be  offered  for  information  of  the  vaudoux  worshippers 
if  getting  such  information  was  as  easy  as  Biglow's 
manner  seemed  to  suggest.  Besides,  had  not  de  Cripsny 
hinted  that  President  Gravelot  was  a  vaudoux  wor- 
shipper ?  And  what  would  Sestrina  think  if  she  eves 
heard  that  Clensy  had  been  one  of  the  party  who  had 
caused  her  father  to  be  shot !  For  that's  what  would 


SESTRINA  69 

happen  if  the  French  government  officials  got  hold  of 
the  miscreants. 

As  Clensy  stood  reflecting,  Biglow,  who  had  been 
watching  his  face,  said,  "  Don't  you  worry  about 
Sestrina's  pa.  I  won't  hurt  him  if  we  do  find  out  that 
be  is  anything  to  do  with  these  damnable  cannibals." 
Then  the  gun-runner  added,  "  Besides,  I  know  what  I'm 
about ;  even  if  we  were  caught,  I've  got  the  trick  card 
up  my  sleeve."  Saying  this,  Biglow  explained  to  Clensy 
how  he  was  in  league  with  the  Cacao  insurgents, 
who  were  deadly  enemies  of  the  British  and  French 
authorities,  and  were  staunch  friends  to  the  papaloi 
and  all  who  were  connected  with  the  vaudoux  fetish. 

"  You  don't  understand.  I  can  easily  turn  the 
tables  if  things  turned  up  rough."  And  as  Biglow  chatted 
on  and  made  things  look  quite  rosy,  Clensy,  though  he 
really  did  not  understand  half  the  gun-runner  said, 
made  up  his  mind  to  accompany  Biglow  in  his  search 
in  the  mountains  hard  by  for  the  secret  vaudoux  temples. 

The  risk  of  the  adventure  and  all  that  he  might  see  of 
the  inner  working  of  the  strange  fetish,  warmed  Clensy's 
ardour  up  immensely  as  he  reflected  over  it  all. 

"  Perhaps  Biglow  will  be  so  successful  that  he  will 
get  such  information  as  will  enable  the  authorities  to 
smash  the  whole  infernal  fetish  creed  up !  "  And  as 
he  continued  to  reflect  and  thought  of  all  the  possi- 
bilities, his  zeal  increased  till  he  was  as  eager  to  go  in 
search  of  the  secret  fetish  places  as  was  Biglow.  His 
imagination  worked  and  worked  till  he  pictured  Sestrina 
standing  before  her  father  with  bowed  head,  as  he  tried 
to  lure  her  to  become  a  convert  to  the  revolting  creed 
which  he  himself  indulged  in. 

"  Who  knows  !  I  may  be  the  means  of  saving  Ses- 
trina from  falling  before  a  father's  vile  temptation  and 
becoming  steeped  in  the  blood,  superstition  and 
debauchery  of  an  old  West  African  cannibalistic  fetish 
creed  !  "  So  ran  Clensy's  thoughts  ;  and  when  Biglow, 
Adams  and  he  set  out  the  next  day  for  their  journey  to 


70  SESTRINA 

the  mountains,  a  few  miles  from  Port-au-Prince,  Clensy 
was  the  most  enthusiastic  over  the  great  possibilities  of 
the  venture. 

The  weather  was  very  hot,  consequently  they  had 
given  themselves  plenty  of  time  for  the  venture.  Biglow, 
who  had  once  been  employed  by  the  American  Govern- 
ment to  help  put  down  slave  traffic  in  the  South  Sea 
Islands,  was  in  his  element.  He  had  made  all  plans  for 
the  venture  without  a  hitch.  Both  Clensy  and  Adams 
were  equipped  with  revolvers  and  murderous-looking 
clasp-knives.  When  Biglow  had  handed  Adams  the 
clasp-knife  and  revolver,  the  derelict  sailorman  had 
turned  quite  pale.  It  wanted  those  deadly-looking 
weapons  and  Biglow's  serious-looking  face  to  make  his 
dull  brain  realise  that  they  were  not  going  off  to  gather 
strawberries.  Even  Clensy  looked  thoughtfully  at  the 
open  clasp-knife's  bright  blade  and  at  the  revolver,  and 
then,  taking  his  silk  handkerchief  from  his  pocket,  blew 
his  nose  vigorously,  just  to  relieve  his  feelings. 

As  soon  as  they  had  got  away  from  the  town  they 
entered  the  thick  jungle  country  that  lies  inland  from 
Port-au-Prince.  After  tramping  three  miles  they 
camped  by  the  palm-clad  elevations  of  the  lower  moun- 
tain slopes,  near  Chocalo  gullies.  As  they  sat  smoking 
their  pipes,  Biglow  tugged  at  the  tips  of  his  big  mous- 
tachios  and  gave  repeated  chuckles,  presumably  ever  all 
that  his  sanguine  mind  expected  to  happen  when  he 
had  discovered  the  hiding-place  of  the  fetish  devotees. 

"  Don't  yer  fink  it's  dyngerous  a-coming  up  'ere  alone 
to  catch  myderers  and  cannibals  ?  "  said  Adams  as  he 
took  another  deep  swill  from  his  rum-flask  and  glanced 
nervously  across  the  gullies  and  on  the  sombre  forests 
of  mahogany  trees.  Then  he  proceeded  to  remind 
Biglow  that  de  Cripsny  had  intimated  that  the  agents 
of  the  dreadful  papaloi  roamed  the  forests,  looking  out 
for  likely  folk  whom  they  could  strangle  and  sell  to  the 
fetish  priests. 

"  Almighty  Gawd,  don't !  "  suddenly  moaned  Adams. 


SESTRINA  71 

Biglow  had  replied  to  Adams's  fears  by  bringing  his 
huge  hand  down  with  a  tremendous  whack  on  the 
sailorman's  back,  and  at  the  same  time  had  given  vent 
to  a  peal  of  laughter  that  echoed  across  the  silent  hills. 

Adams  rolled  his  eye.  It  was  easy  enough  to  see  that 
he  was  losing  his  temper.  There's  a  limit  to  all  things. 
Even  Clensy  realised  that  it  was  more  than  unwise 
to  give  such  a  shout  when  they  might  be  within  a  mile 
of  the  vaudoux  stronghold.  Observing  Adams's  con- 
sternation, Bartholomew  Biglow  only  laughed  the  louder. 
When  the  swarms  of  bright-plumaged  lories  and 
frightened  cockatoos,  that  had  ascended  in  screeching 
clouds  from  their  perches,  had  settled  down  again  on 
the  topmost  branches  of  the  mahogany  and  palm-trees, 
Biglow  cheered  Clensy  and  Adams  up  by  saying,  "  Look 
ye  here,  I  can  lick  a  hundred  niggers  myself,  and  I 
happen  to  know  for  a  fact  that  there  are  only  about 
twenty-five  Haytian  niggers  in  the  fetish  hole  which 
we  are  bound  for." 

"  Um !  "  mumbled  Adams,  as  he  began  to  look  more 
healthy  and  pleasant. 

Clensy  also  looked  more  amiably  settled  in  his  mind. 
The  fact  is  that  their  giant  comrade's  fearless  eyes,  as 
he  sat  before  them  pushing  huge  morsels  of  toasted 
damper  into  his  mouth,  inspired  them  with  fullest  confi- 
dence over  the  possibilities  of  the  enterprise. 

;'  'Ow  on  earth  yer  know  all  about  these  'ere  myderera 
and  the  exact  plyce  where  they  worshyps  their  gawds 
and  women  up  'ere,  licks  me  !  "  said  Adams,  as  he 
poured  another  dose  of  rum  into  his  mug  of  hot  tea. 

"  I  take  good  care  to  know  everything  that's  worth 
knowing  when  I  come  out  on  a  game  like  this.  Do  you 
think  I'm  leaving  all  the  knowing  to  the  likes  of  you  ?  " 
said  Biglow,  as  he  put  forth  his  big  boot  and  scattered 
the  fire's  glowing  ash  till  it  seemed  that  the  awakening 
constellations  of  the  darkening  skies  were  sparkling  in 
miniature  in  the  gloom  of  fast-coming  night  which  had 
suddenly  fallen  over  the  silent  gullies. 


72  SESTRINA 

"  Smoke  tells  tales  ;  can  be  seen  miles  away,"  said 
Biglow,  as  lie  glanced  towards  the  mountains,  far  away 
to  the  south-west. 

"  Wish  you'd  thought  of  thet  afore  yer  'ollared  so 
loud  just  now,"  said  Adams  in  a  complaining  voice. 

They  had  been  resting  about  forty  minutes  when 
Biglow  suddenly  leapt  to  his  feet  and  said,  "  Now's  the 
time,  come  on,  lads." 

In  a  moment  they  were  off  again.  The  moon  had 
risen  and  was  sending  a  pale  glimmer  over  the  palm- 
clad  slopes  and  distant  mountains.  Biglow  carefully 
examined  his  revolver.  Adams  and  Clensy  did  like- 
wise. 

"  Wish  ter  Gawd  it  wasn't  so  dark,"  growled  Adams. 

"  Wish  the  moon  wasn't  so  high !  "  replied  Biglow 
with  his  usual  cussedness,  as  the  three  men  started  to 
creep  down  the  slope,  Adams  following  very  carefully  in 
the  rear. 

"  He'll  git  us  mydered  out  'ere  in  this  damned  'ole, 
and  I  ain't  been  the  best  o'  men,"  whispered  Adams  in 
a  hollow  voice  as  he  leaned  towards  Clensy's  right  ear. 
Then  he  added :  "  Wish  we  was  a-buskin',  earning 
money  honest,  as  of  old,  pal." 

"  So  do  I,"  whispered  Clensy,  as  he  broke  the  pledge 
— took  the  proffered  rum-flask  from  Adams's  hand  and 
took  a  rather  big  nip. 

After  crossing  the  gradual  curves  of  the  slope,  they 
passed  through  a  wide  stretch  of  jungle  and  found  them- 
selves in  a  beautiful  valley  that  seemed  to  wind  away 
between  the  mountains.  To  the  right  of  them  the 
rugged  hills  slowly  increased  in  height  tifl  they  were 
lost  below  the  peak  of  a  mountain  that  strangely 
resembled  a  vast  cross,  quite  distinct  in  the  moon- 
fight. 

It  was  Biglow  who  called  his  comrade's  attention  to 
that  strange  resemblance,  for  he  suddenly  said :  "  Old 
de  Cripsny  was  right !  It  does  look  like  a  cross  in  the 
moonlight,  though  I'm  damned  if  I  could  see  any  resem- 


SESTRINA  73 

blance  when  I  first  sighted  it  whilst  we  were  tramping 
across  the  plains,  way  back." 

"  So  that  peak  was  your  guide,"  thought  Clensy,  as 
he  stared  up  at  the  distant  peak,  and  no  longer  wondered 
how  it  was  that  Biglow  tramped  along  in  one  direction 
without  the  slightest  hesitation,  as  though  he  was  going 
over  some  well-known  track. 

"  This  way,  lads,  don't  keep  on  that  path,"  suddenly 
said  Biglow  in  a  low  voice.  Then  he  pointed  to  the 
ground  and  showed  them  a  pathway  that  had  most 
certainly  been  made  through  the  tramp  of  human  foot- 
steps. Biglow's  voice  had  become  subdued.  His  erst- 
while jovial  countenance  had  become  serious-looking. 

"If  Tie  looks  serious,  there's  something  to  be  serious 
about,"  was  Clensy's  uncomfortable  reflection  as  he 
looked  at  his  revolver  and  began  to  wonder  if  he  would 
ever  see  the  sunrise  again. 

"  Keep  to  the  sand ;  for  heaven's  sake  keep  to  the 
sand !  "  said  Biglow  in  a  premonitory  voice,  as  they 
sank  up  to  their  ankles  into  the  silvery  dust  as  they  got 
off  the  beaten  track. 

"  There's  no  telling  who  might  come  along  that  path- 
way," said  Biglow,  as  they  found  themselves  once  again 
in  the  shadows. 

"  Look  out !  a  light  on  the  starboard  bow !  " 
whispered  Biglow,  just  as  Clensy  and  Adams  were  hoping 
that  they  had  been  brought  on  a  wild-goose  chase. 
Sure  enough,  right  below  the  cross-shaped  peak,  far 
away  at  the  end  of  the  valley,  gleamed  a  tiny  light. 

Clensy  and  Adams  stared  in  each  other's  eyes.  What 
was  going  to  be  Biglow's  next  move,  they  both  won- 
dered ?  The  big  man's  ears  had  gone  stiff,  alert,  like 
a  mastiff's,  as  he  stood  there,  his  hand  arched  over  his 
brow,  his  eyes  staring  as  though  with  delight  at  the  tell- 
tale gleam  that  flickered  somewhere  between  the  palm 
trunks  ahead  of  them. 

"  Blest  if  the  moon  isn't  over  the  peak,  in  the  exact 
position  that  I  want  it !  "  said  Biglow. 


74  SESTRINA 

"  Wa  jer  mean  ?  "  said  Adams,  as  he  lifted  his  solitary 
eye  and  gazed  nervously  towards  the  mountain  peak. 

"  Why,  the  moon's  the  clock  of  the  papoloi  cannibal 
priests,  and  when  it  hangs  over  that  peak  it  is  a  sign 
that  the  priests  must  offer  sacrifices  on  the  fetish  altars 
of  the  vaudoux.  Old  Crippy  said  so,  and  he  evidently 
knows,  or  else  why  is  that  light  down  the  valley  and  the 
moon  hanging  like  a  Chinese  lantern  exactly  over  that 
big  cross  up  there  with  a  cabbage  on  top  of  it  ?  " 

Adams  and  Clensy  looked  towards  the  mountain. 
"  It  do  look  loike  a  cabbage  that  'ere  nob  on  top  of  it," 
growled  Adams  as  his  eye  shifted  about,  so  nervous  did 
he  feel. 

"  Come  on,"  said  Biglow,  "  don't  stand  there  gaping." 

The  next  moment  Adams  and  Clensy  obeyed  Biglow's 
orders.  Without  hesitating  both  went  down  on  their 
bellies  and  crawled  along  the  silver  sand,  Biglow  leading 
the  way.  Adams  began  to  make  a  bit  of  a  fuss  as  he 
went  wriggling  along  on  all  fours,  dragging  his  stout 
corporation  as  high  as  possible  over  the  stones  and  scrub. 
Presently  the  three  of  them  had  crossed  through  the 
thick  scrub  and  bamboo  growth  that  divided  them  from 
the  treeless  slope  that  led  nearly  to  the  end  of  the  valley. 
Peeping  through  the  edge  of  the  jungle  growth,  they 
peered  across  the  sands  that  ran  towards  the  place  where 
the  tell-tale  light  gleamed,  and  stared  like  men  in  a 
dream.  There  before  them,  not  more  than  five  hundred 
yards  away,  stood  about  a  dozen  dark  men  robed  in 
white  surplices,  the  goats'  horns,  the  vaudoux  symbol, 
stuck  on  their  heads.  The  horns  gave  a  weird,  devilish 
appearance  to  the  huddled,  slowly  moving  figures. 

"  Keep  yer  peckers  up,  don't  get  nervous,"  said 
Biglow,  as  Adams  and  Clensy  suddenly  bobbed  their 
heads  back  into  the  jungle  leaves,  dreading  that  they 
might  be  observed.  Adams  looked  like  having  a  fit 
when  Biglow  nudged  him  violently  in  the  ribs,  and  said 
in  a  stage  whisper ;  "  Five  hundred  pounds,  old  boy ! 
Five  hundred !  " 


SESTRINA  75 

"  You've  gone  mad  ter  talk  loud  like  that  in  a  Lawful 
time  like  this  'ere,"  Adams  almost  hissed.  Biglow 
seemed  delighted  to  see  Adams's  extreme  funk,  and  the 
vicious  light  of  his  solitary  eye. 

"  We're  not  at  a  picnic,  Biglow,"  said  Clensy  as  he  too 
stared  at  his  giant  comrade,  feeling  a  trifle  irritated. 

"  We're  at  something  a  damned  sight  better  !  "  replied 
Biglow  as  he  pointed  in  the  direction  of  the  white-robed 
priests  moving  about  in  the  gloom. 

Most  certainly,  the  scene  before  their  eyes  was  more 
like  the  description  of  some  brigand's  cave  in  a  dime 
novel,  than  anything  that  Clensy  could  liken  it  to. 
Even  Biglow  rubbed  his  eyes  as  he  stared  again,  and  the 
light  from  the  head  priest's  torch  fell  in  such  a  way  that 
they  distinctly  saw  two  coffins  lying  at  the  feet  of  those 
swarthy,  surpliced,  fetish  worshippers.  And  as  the  three 
men  watched,  they  saw  those  dark  forms  stoop  and 
slowly  lift  the  two  coffins,  and  then  begin  to  move  to- 
wards the  wide,  but  low  entrance  of  a  cavern  that  ran 
deep  into  the  mountain's  side.  So  brilliant  was  the 
moonlight  that  they  distinctly  saw  the  figures  bend  their 
horned  heads  as  they  carried  their  gruesome  load  through 
the  low-roofed  cavern  doorway. 

"  You'll  see  the  sight  of  your  lives  when  you  get  in 
there,"  said  Biglow. 

For  a  while  Adams  refused  to  budge,  and  said  he 
wasn't  going  to  be  murdered  by  cannibals  for  twenty 
thousand  pounds.  But  Biglow's  fearless  eyes  and  san- 
guine manner  revived  the  ex-sailorman's  courage. 
"  Awl  roight,  Gawd  forgive  yer  if  I'm  mydered  !  "  said 
Adams,  and  then  the  three  men  started  to  crawl  slowly 
along  the  edge  of  the  jungle,  making  their  way  towards 
the  cavern's  entrance. 

"  Don't  get  flustered,"  said  Biglow  as  he  turned  his 
head  while  still  on  his  stomach,  then  added  :  "All  you've 
got  to  do,  is  to  hold  your  revolvers  ready,  and  shout 
your  loudest  if  I  give  the  signal,  and  all  will  be  well. 
I've  fought  three  hundred  niggers  down  at  Sumatra, 


76  SESTRINA 

and  routed  an  army  of  nine  hundred  niggers  armed  with 
drums  and  spears  on  the  West  Coast  of  Africa." 

;'  'Ope  it  ain't  all  talk,"  wailed  Adams  as  they  crept 
under  the  fern  trees  that  grew  thickly  within  a  few  feet 
of  the  cavern's  entrance.  They  suddenly  stopped. 
They  could  hear  sounds  of  music. 

"  They're  dancing  to  the  chica  jigs  !  Now  for  a  ju-ju 
show !  "  chuckled  Biglow.  The  gun-runner's  careless 
levity  braced  Clensy's  and  Adam's  nerves  wonderfully. 
"  Come  on,  lads  !  "  The  next  moment  Biglow  had 
boldly  stood  erect,  and  had  run  across  the  soft  sands 
that  separated  the  three  of  them  from  the  cavern's 
entrance.  In  another  moment  he  had  glanced  hastily 
round,  and  seeing  no  sign  of  the  vaudoux  devotees,  had 
slipped  into  the  opening,  the  rocky  cleft  which  led  into 
the  subterranean  chambers  of  the  secret  vaudoux 
temples.  Clensy  and  Adams  immediately  revealed  their 
implicit  faith  in  all  that  their  courageous  comrade  did — 
they  at  once  followed  him. 

"  Keep  close  to  me,  lads,"  said  Biglow  as  he  stole 
slowly  along  the  side  of  the  rocky  wall  of  a  passage  that 
widened  as  it  deepened. 

"  Well,  now !  "  muttered  Clensy.  They  could  hear 
a  voice  singing  a  weird,  sweet  strain  to  words  in  a  strange 
tongue.  It  was  a  woman's  voice,  and  the  subterranean 
hollows  produced  a  magical  effect  as  the  echoes  of  the 
song  floating  about  and  re-echoed,  sounding  like  exiled 
strains  of  music  in  despair,  calling  for  the  brightness 
and  beauty  of  the  world  outside. 

"  Gawd  save  me  bacon !  "  said,  or  rather  moaned 
Adams  as  the  three  of  them  dodged  back  into  the  deeper 
shadows,  and  hid  behind  the  boulders  that  stood  like 
massive  pillars  holding  up  the  glittering  crystalline  sub- 
terranean roof.  So  silent  were  they  as  they  stood 
there  that  they  could  heai  each  other's  breathing. 

"  All's  well,  so  far,"  whispered  Biglow.  They  were 
in  a  risky  position  though,  for  the  slightest  sound  would 
betray  their  presence.  The  passage  where  they  stood 


SESTRINA  77 

was  about  eighteen  feet  wide,  so  they  were  fortunately 
out  of  the  way  of  anyone  who  might  pass  in  or  out  of 
the  fetish  chambers.  They  stood  still,  breathless,  like 
wonderfully,  chiselled  statues,  the  highest  thing  in 
sculptural  art,  when  a  big  mulatto  fellow,  clad  in  a  sur- 
plice, walked  down  the  passage  from  the  chambers. 
They  saw  him  go  to  the  cavern's  entrance  and  peer 
cautiously  out  into  the  night.  He  was  doing  sentry 
duty,  was  on  watch  to  give  warning  should  anyone  be 
seen  approaching  the  vaudoux  caves.  The  three  hidden 
men  saw  his  huge  form  glide  by  them  as  he  passed  along 
the  passage  on  his  way  back  to  the  hollow  chambers. 
So  close  was  he  to  Clensy  that  he  felt  a  cool  whiff  of  air 
touch  his  sweating  face  as  the  mulatto's  surpliced  robe 
swished  by. 

"  Come  on,"  whispered  Biglow.  The  next  moment 
they  had  arrived  before  the  opening  of  some  large  inner 
chamber.  By  the  dazzling  glimmer  of  hanging  lamps 
they  knew  they  were  close  to  the  sacrificial  altars  of^  the 
terrible  vaudoux,  the  altars  that  inspired  strong  Haytian 
men  with  fear,  making  them  tremble  when  they  passed 
through  lonely  forests  by  night,  altars  that  inspired 
women  and  children  with  a  vague  terror  of  the  devil  as 
they  whispered  and  stared  with  awestruck  eyes  by  the 
firesides  of  the  lonely  homesteads  round  Port-au-Prince. 

Biglow  had  already  fixed  his  eye  to  a  chink  in  the 
rocky  wall.  He  could  see  all  that  was  passing  in  the 
lofty  chamber  beyond.  Adams,  who  had  crouched 
behind  "Biglow,  was  vigorously  chewing  tobacco  plug  in 
an  attempt  to  calm  his  excited  nerves. 

"  Come  you  here,  lad,"  whispered  Biglow  j  and 
Clensy,  taking  a  place  beside  the  intrepid  gun-runner, 
at  once  fixed  his  eye  to  the  chink.  The  sight  Clensy 
saw  made  his  brain  swim  in  bewilderment.  The  scenic 
effect,  while  peeping  through  that  tiny  hole  in  the  rocky 
wall,  was  as  though  he  had  fixed  his  eye  to  the  tube  of 
some  marvellous  telescope  that  revealed  a  scene  of 
revelry  on  another  world  beyond  the  stars,  some  dim 


78  SESTRINA 

landscape  faintly  lit  by  a  little  sky,  shining  with  the 
glittering  light   of  starry  constellations   of  stalactites. 
Had   Clensy  suddenly  taken  a    peep  at  the  heavens 
through  a  telescope  and  discovered  God  enthroned,  hail- 
fellow-well-met  with  the  devil  on  some  infinite  night- 
out,  in  a  seraglio  down  a  back  alley  of  the  constellation 
of  Hercules,  roaring  forth  the  infinite  laughter  of  the 
spheres,  watching  His  own  voluptuous  houris  and  pup- 
pets dancing  in  the  drama  of  some  sensuous  lapse,  his 
face  could  not  have  expressed  greater  surprise.     But 
the  scene  which  Clensy  saw  had  no  kindredship  with 
human  conceptions  of  the  mysteries  of  the  unknowable 
overwatching   the   knowable.     Relentless    reality,   un- 
shadowy,  full  of  mortal  frailness  and  sensuous  passion, 
and  lacking  that  aesthetic  sanctitude  of  beauty  and  cold- 
ness which  mortals  imagine  when  dreaming  over  im- 
mortal things,  was  vividly  expressed  on  the  faces  of  that 
secret  assemblage.     The  weird  atmosphere  of  indescri- 
bable remoteness  which  the  scene  conjured  up  in  Clensy's 
brain  was  intensified  by  the  swinging  glow  of  innumerable 
lamps  which  hung  from  the  cavern's  wide  roof,  giving 
the  scene  of  impassioned  abandonment  an  unreal,  misty 
effect,  as  the  handsome  mulatto  girls  and  women  and 
men  whirled  about,  waving  their  arms,  chanting  melo- 
dies in  Haytian  patois.     The  Creole  women,  clad  in  blue 
and  yellowish  diaphanous  robes,  specially  fashioned  for 
the  vigorous   performance   of  the  chic  and  bambalou 
dances  in  their  primitive  form,  moved  their  shadowy- 
like  limbs  rhythmically  to  the  chanting  accompaniment 
of  stern-looking  papaloi  and  negroes.     Haytian  chiefs, 
who  stood  by,  staring  with  burning  eyes,  repeatedly 
raised  their  sacred  goblets  full  of  white  rum,  and  mur- 
mured "  Wanga  Louye  garou"  which  was  the  cry   of 
the  terrible  papaloi  priests  who  were  known  as   "  Les 
Mysteres." 

Notwithstanding  the  terror,  the  lust  and  cruelty 
associated  with  the  rites  of  the  fetish,  Clensy  and  Biglow 
came  under  the  magic  spell  of  the  music,  and  the  alluring 


SESTRINA  79 

movements  of  the  dancing  houris,  for  such  they  looked. 
Three  of  the  Haytian  girls  appeared  strikingly  beautiful 
as  they  performed  the  mystical  passes  of  the  forbidden 
ritual.  Suddenly  they  stopped  whirling,  and,  forming 
rows,  swayed  in  front  of  the  dreaded  papaloi  making 
graceful  obeisance  to  those  fetish  priests,  holding  their 
robes  high,  bowing  with  delicate  grace  before  the  burning 
eyes  of  the  swarthy  white-surpliced  voluptuaries.  Under 
the  influence  of  the  fetish  drinks  and  frenzied  fanaticism 
the  girls'  and  women's  eyes  shone  like  living  jewels. 

"  Holy  Mary  !  "  exclaimed  Biglow.  The  misty  forms 
of  the  dancers  stood  perfectly  still,  and  the  two  coffins 
which  Biglow  and  Clensy  had  seen  at  the  cavern's  en- 
trance, were  suddenly  dragged  into  view  by  two  huge 
negroes. 

"  Lou  potoa,"  moaned  one  of  the  papaloi,  a  venerable 
looking  aged  debauchee  who  wore  a  poetic-looking  white 
beard.  Then  a  pretty  Creole  maid  ran  forward,  and, 
severing  the  ropes  which  were  round  the  two  coffins, 
removed  the  lids.  Nothing  seemed  too  strange  to  occur 
that  night  as  Clensy  and  Biglow  stared  in  astonishment 
— the  inmates  of  the  two  coffins  sat  up,  were  gazing  on 
the  assemblage  with  glazed,  vacant  looking  eyes,  their 
jaw-bindings  still  on  !  Clensy  noticed  that  their  hands 
were  tied  behind  them. 

"  God !  "  was  all  that  the  young  Englishman  could 
mutter,  but  it  sufficiently  expressed  his  feelings  at  that 
moment  when  God  seemed  so  far  away. 

"  They're  sick  men  or  women  who  have  been  buried 
alive,  drugged,  and  hurriedly  buried." 

"  Good  heavens !  what  do  you  mean  ?  "  gasped  Clensy. 

"  I  simply  mean  that  those  two  men  (one  was  a  man 
and  the  other  a  woman)  have  been  sold  to  the  papaloi 
while  they  were  sick,  and  after  being  drugged  and  buried 
have  been  dug  up  by  the  vaudoux  thugs,  stolen  from 
the  cemeteries  by  night,  coffins  and  all !  " 

"  Are  they  going  to  kill  them,  do "    Clensy  said 

no  more.    A  tall  negro  had  stepped  forward,  and  had 


80  SESTRINA 

dragged  the  coffins  with  their  inmates  back  into  the 
shadows.  It  was  the  sight  of  the  terrible  papaloi  priest 
who  had  suddenly  stepped  forward,  and  had  placed  a 
large  basket  down  on  the  stage  that  had  startled  Clensy. 
This  individual  was  the  sacred  executioner,  and  he  wore 
the  horns  of  a  goat  on  his  bald,  polished  skull,  which 
gave  him  a  demoniacal  appearance.  The  rows  of  Creole 
and  mulatto  girls  prostrated  themselves  before  the 
executioner. 

The  whole  assemblage  of  that  cavern  chamber  stood 
in  perfect  silence  when  the  negro  priest  stooped  and 
raised  the  lid  of  the  basket,  revealing  the  enclosed 
victim,  trussed,  ready  for  the  sacrificial  altar — a  terror- 
stricken  mulatto  girl !  The  girl's  eyes  gazed  in  vacant 
terror  at  the  stern  chiselled-like  faces  of  the  papaloi  who 
at  once  surrounded  her.  No  mercy  shone  in  the  eyes 
of  those  hungry  looking  fanatics  of  the  most  blood- 
thirsty creed  that  has  ever  sent  cries  of  anguish  to 
God.  The  girl's  mute  appeal,  for  her  mouth  was  gagged, 
made  no  impression  on  the  hearts  of  the  hot-blooded 
African  and  Haytian  men  and  women  who  witnessed 
that  sight.  The  greater  her  grief,  the  more  terrifying 
her  convulsive  throes,  the  more  glory  to  the  fetish 
deities  whom  they  worshipped.  The  wretched  victim 
was  the  Goat  Without  Horns ;  her  living  blood  the 
anticipated  libation  that  must  be  drunk  with  white 
rum  when  those  terrible  fetish  men  and  women  knelt 
before  the  vaudoux  altars.  No  Marquesan,  no  Fijian 
cannibalistic  orgy  of  the  old  pre-Christian  times  ever 
approached  in  cruelty  and  lingering  terror  the  torture 
that  those  semi-civilised  Haytians  meted  out  to  their 
victims.  The  Goat  Without  Horns  was  the  chosen  of  the 
dark  powers,  the  honoured  of  their  people,  and  so  why 
should  their  hearts  be  touched  by  the  victim's  anguish  ? 

Undoing  the  sennet  thongs  that  bound  the  girl's  legs 
together,  they  made  her  stand  on  the  vaudoux  altar. 
Her  terror  was  so  great  that  her  limbs  trembled  like 
blown  leaves,  her  fingers  moving  convulsively. 


SESTRINA  81 

"  Savoot,  garou  I  "  wailed  a  hoarse  voice.  That  voice 
and  those  dreadful  words  sent  a  death-like  silence  and 
chill  into  Clensy's  soul.  Even  Biglow's  bosom  gave  a 
half-stifled  sigh  as  he  quietly  drew  his  revolver  from  his 
pocket.  A  tall,  handsome  man  had  suddenly  stepped 
forward  ;  he  removed  his  cloak. 

•*'  Good  heavens  !  impossible !  "  murmured  Clensy. 
But  it  wasn't  impossible  at  all,  for  there,  as  real  as 
Clensy's  surprise,  stood  President  Gravelot,  Sestrina's 
father.  The  fear  of  Clensy's  heart  over  the  risk  he  was 
running  through  being  in  that  place,  was  extinguished 
as  his  whole  soul  became  centred  with  an  intense  curi- 
osity on  the  scene  before  him.  His  eyes  began  to  scan 
eagerly  the  rows  of  robed  women  and  girls,  many  in 
their  teens,  who  made  up  the  strangely  assorted  audience 
of  that  terrible  seraglio  of  bloodthirsty  superstition  and 
indiscribable  lust  that  was  sanctified  by  the  presence  of 
the  vaudoux  priests.  A  great  fear  had  begun  to  haunt 
Clensy's  brain — was  Sestrina  among  that  crew  ?  Why 
were  some  of  the  female  adherents  as  well  as  the  men, 
wearing  masks  that  only  revealed  their  burning  eyes  ? 
Already  the  frenzy  of  drink  and  superstition  had  seized 
those  fetish  devotees.  The  hot-blooded  negro  and 
Haytian  priests  were  already  lifting  their  hands  as  they 
chanted  the  weird  vaudoux  melodies.  They  were 
wonderful  strains  that  they  chanted,  inasmuch  as  they 
suggested  the  indescribable  debauchery  of  the  men  and 
women  who  sang.  Some  of  the  young  mulatto  and 
Creole  girls  were  already  lying  in  postures  of  stupefied 
abandonment  on  the  couches  and  settees  of  that  sump- 
tiously  furnished  subterreanean  temple  chamber,  some 
weeping  and  laughing  in  the  hysteria  and  religious  fer- 
vour which  had  seized  them.  Others  stood  as  though 
transfixed  by  a  terrible  curiosity,  yes,  as  they  watched 
in  fiendish  anticipation  to  see  the  coming  torture  of  the 
sacrificial  victim. 

By  the  wall,  just  behind  the  altars,  stood  a  large 
stone  figure  of  the  Virgin  Mary,  one  chiselled  arm 


82  SESTRINA 

outstretched,  holding  the  figure  of  a  little  child — it 
was  a  diabolical,  blasphemous  perversion  of  the  beauti-1 
ful  symbol  of  the  Christian  creed.  Even  Clensy  and 
Biglow  became  imbued  with  a  sudden  tinge  of  heathen- 
ish superstition  at  that  moment,  for  a  strange-looking 
black  figure,  that  had  been  standing  by  the  altar,  had 
commenced  to  dance  in  a  silent,  unsubstantial  manner. 
It  was  waving  its  shadowy  hands,  mimicking  every 
movement  of  the  priests  who  were  going  through  the 
mystical  passes  of  the  vaudoux  rites.  And  as  that 
shadowy  figure  danced  and  the  whole  audience  stared, 
spellbound,  the  gleams  of  the  lamps  on  the  figure  of  the 
Virgin  just  behind  it,  were  distinctly  visible  through 
its  form !  Clensy,  his  eye  still  fixed  to  the  chink,  slowly 
recovered  his  mental  equilibrium,  and  was  convinced 
that  Sestrina  was  not  present  with  her  parent. 

"  Thank  God,  she's  not  here,"  he  muttered  to  himself 
as  he  too  gripped  his  revolver.  He  knew  that  Bartholo- 
mew Biglow  was  not  going  to  stand  there  and  see  the 
young  mulatto  girl  sacrificed  before  their  eyes.  Biglow 
turned  towards  Adams,  "  Clear  out  of  it,  run  your 
damndest." 

Adams  needed  no  second  request  to  take  to  his  heels  ; 
he,  surely,  had  never  run  so  fast  in  his  whole  career  as 
he  ran  when  he  bolted  down  the  passage,  and  vanished 
from  sight.  Clensy  and  Biglow  were  good  runners,  and 
they  well  knew  that  Adams,  through  being  stout,  would 
be  a  terrible  encumbrance  were  he  with  them  when  the 
time  came  for  flight. 

"  Keep  still,  lad,  leave  it  all  to  me,"  whispered  Biglow. 
Then  he  added ;  "  Wish  we  had  my  best  pal,  Samuel 
Bilbao  here,  he'd  glory  in  a  fix  like  this,  he  would !  " 

And  as  the  big  man  muttered  the  foregoing,  alluding 
to  a  celebrated  South  Sea  character  who  was  noted  for 
his  pluck  and  adventurous  career,  he  gave  a  quiet 
chuckle  and  clicked  the  trigger  of  his  revolver.  "  Keep 
quiet,  lad !  " 

"  All  right !  "  whispered  Clensy,  for  he  knew  that 


SESTRINA  83 

Biglow  was  a  splendid  shot,  whereas  he  might  fire  and 
miss.  The  head  papaloi  priest  had  stepped  forward. 
The  whole  audience  stood  breathless,  spellbound,  as  they 
watched  to  witness  the  fatal  thrust  that  would  make  the 
victim's  blood  gush  into  the  sacramental  goblet.  Clensy 
felt  sick.  The  victim  already  stood  on  the  terrible 
sfab,  her  anguished  paralysed  form  held  up  by  two 
white-surpliced  negroes  who  stood  on  either  side,  grip- 
ping her  arms.  Then  the  aged,  almost  venerable  looking 
papaloi  priest,  stepped  forward  and  began  to  mumble 
something.  His  head  was  thrown  back,  his  beard  raised 
towards  the  roof  as  he  continued  mumbling  the  sacri- 
ficial thanksgiving  prayer !  It  all  happened  in  a  few 
seconds  ;  the  aged  papaloi  stood  with  hand  raised. 
Clensy  and  Biglow  saw  the  shining  steel  of  the  long 
blade  hover  before  the  victim's  terror-stricken  eyes — 
the  slayer  must  aim  true  ! 

"  Crack !  "  the  papaloi-slayer's  arm  was  shattered 
near  the  wrist !  Four  more  shots  followed  in  swift 
succession.  Gravelot  was  winged  in  the  shoulder, 
another  fell  with  the  top  of  his  head  blown  off !  Then 
Biglow  snatched  Clensy's  revolver  from  his  hand,  and, 
rushing  into  that  chamber  of  horrors,  snatched  the 
sacrificial  victim  up  in  his  broad  arms  ! 

And  what  did  the  bloodthirsty  vaudoux  worshippers 
who  drank  human  blood  and  sacrificed  helpless  children, 
do  ?  They  bolted  like  a  drove  of  frightened  shadows, 
went  flying  in  all  directions.  Maybe  they  imagined 
that  a  hundred  government  gendarmes  had  charged 
them.  Sure  enough,  Biglow  yelled  loud  enough  for 
such  an  idea  to  seize  their  cowardly  imaginations  as  the 
echoes  of  his  mighty  voice  and  Clensy's  shouts  rumbled 
through  the  chambers  of  that  subterranean  place. 

Clensy  never  could  give  a  coherent  account  as  to  how 
he  got  safely  out  of  that  terrible  vaudoux  temple  in  the 
mountains.  He  had  long  legs,  and  probably  that  fact, 
more  than  his  heartfelt  prayers,  saved  his  life. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE  next  day  Clensy,  Biglow,  and  Adams  sat  whisper- 
ing together  over  a  table  in  the  small  cafe  chantant 
near  Toujeaur.  They  all  appeared  calm  enough  afteB 
their  adventure.  Adams  was  the  only  one  who  had 
escaped  from  the  vaudoux  temple  unscathed.  Clensy 
had  a  swollen  lip  and  Biglow  had  got  out  of  the  melee 
with  nothing  more  than  a  large  contusion  over  his  left 
eyebrow.  Biglow  seemed  in  high  spirits.  He  was 
delighted  to  think  that  he  had  been  able  to  save  the 
wretched  mulatto  girl  from  being  slain  on  the  vaudoux 
altars. 

"  What  a  fine  missionary  I  am  !  "  he  said,  as,  smack- 
ing his  leg  with  his  hand,  he  gave  a  huge  smile  of  appro- 
bation over  his  pleasure  in  the  thought  of  all  he  had 
accomplished.  "  Nice  little  kid  she  was  too  !  "  he  said 
as  he  referred  to  the  maid  he  had  rescued.  "  She's  as 
safe  as  houses  now ;  I've  placed  her  in  the  hands  of  an 
aged  Haytian  woman,  a  special  friend  of  mine,  one 
whom  I  can  trust." 

"  Wasn't  she  thankful !  and  the  way  she  clung  to 
you  and  kissed  you  when  she  came  to  !  "  said  Clensy, 
referring  to  the  rescued  girl's  hysterical  delight  when 
ehe  found  herself  safe  in  the  jungle,  her  brow  being 
fanned  by  Biglow  and  Clensy  when  she  regained  con- 
sciousness. 

For  the  moment  the  three  men  sat  silent.  Even 
Adams's  solitary  eye  looked  dim  as  they  sat  there  and 
thought  of  the  mulatto  girl's  delight  when  she,  realising 
the  whole  position,  had  clung  like  a  child  at  Biglow's 
breast.  , 

"  Do  you  mean  to  inform  the  authorities  about  it 
all  ?  "  said  Clensy. 

"  No  lad,  I've  thought  it  over,  it  wouldn't  be  much 
use.  You  see,  Gravelot  is  in  with  the  fanatics,  and  he 

84 


SESTEINA  85 

would  be  sure  to  deny  everything,  and  possibly  turn 
the  tables  on  us.  By  now  they've  wrapped  their 
wounds  up  and  buried  the  dead  too." 

"But  Gravelot  got  a  shot  in  the  shoulder,  I  "saw 
him  stumble  and  clap  his  hand  to  it ;  how  would  he 
explain  that  ?  "  said  Clensy. 

"  Oh,  he'd  say  that  we  waylaid  him,  shot  and  robbed 
him  while  he  was  on  his  way  to  church,  evening  Mass, 
or  something,  and  we'd  get  shot  for  that,"  replied 
Biglow  as  he  swallowed  a  tumbler  full  of  whisky  and 
water. 

*'  Maybe  you're  right,"  said  Clensy  feeling  much 
relieved.  The  fact  is,  that  Clensy  was  trying  to  find 
out  what  Biglow' s  intentions  in  the  matter  really  were. 
The  young  Englishman  didn't  want  Sestrina's  father 
arrested  by  the  British  officials  and  shot.  He  knew 
that  he  would  be  called  upon  to  give  evidence  in  the 
courts,  and  that  Sestrina  would  naturally  look  upon 
him  as  one  who  had  helped  put  her  father  to  death. 

Biglow's  capacious  mind  had  swiftly  come  to  the 
conclusion  that  it  would  pay  him  better  to  have  the 
president  under  his  thumb  than  to  attempt  to  claim 
the  reward  from  the  authorities. 

"  Stroikes  me  we'd  better  clear  out  of  this  blasted 
'ole  ;  it's  getting  'ot  for  us,  there's  a  revolution  a-coming 
too  !  "  said  Adams  as  he  turned  and  shot  a  stream  of 
tobacco  juice  through  the  open  window. 

"  I  don't  believe  all  I  hear  about  the  coming  revolu- 
tion," exclaimed  Clensy. 

"  You  don't,  don't  you  ?  "  said  Biglow.  Then  he 
continued':  "  Would  you  be  surprised  to  know  that  the 
Cacaos  insurgents  have  already  had  the  first  skirmish  in 
the  mountains  with  the  government  soldiers  ?  Bless 
you,  they  came  down  only  the  other  night  and  robbed 
the  Haytian  banks  and  shot  several  of  the  nigger  police. 
No  one's  safe  here.  Men  are  arrested  every  day  and 
shot  for  openly  showing  their  dislike  to  Gravelot. 
Duels  are  being  fought  in  the  streets  every  day  iu 


86  SESTRINA 

Port-au-Prince.  The  French  charge  de  affaires  seems 
to  have  no  power  over  the  mad  population,  or  is  in- 
different to  all  that's  going  on.  Its  quite  a  common 
thing  to  hear  shots  in  the  night  coming  from  the 
direction  of  the  hills  when  the  government  scouts  met 
the  insurgents." 

"  Surely  things  are  not  as  bad  as  you  paint  them,'* 
said  Clensy.  Then  he  suddenly  remembered  how  he 
had  heard  sounds  of  shooting  while  in  bed,  and  had 
thought  some  one  was  out  by  night  shooting  owls  in  the 
mahogany  forests  near  Selle  district. 

"  Not  a  very  rose-tinted  account  of  the  present  state 
of  affairs  here,"  thought  Clensy  as  he  left  his  two 
comrades  and  strolled  back  to  his  lodgings.  But 
Clensy  was  really  more  worried  about  Sestrina  than 
anything  else.  The  idea  that  her  father  was  an  adherent 
to  vaudoux  creed  had  greatly  upset  him  at  first.  He 
was  quite  assured  that  Sestrina  had  nothing  whatever 
to  do  with  the  vaudoux.  And  as  he  thought  over  it  all, 
he  realised  that  daughters  are  quite  helpless  so  far  as 
their  father's  sins  are  concerned.  "  Children  can't  rear 
their  parents  and  subdue  their  passions  and  lead  them 
on  the  better  path ;  things  might  be  better  if  they 
could,"  he  thought  to  himself  as  he  stood  before  his 
looking-glass  and  brushed  his  hair.  He  was  making 
himself  look  spruce,  for  he  had  made  up  his  mind  to  go 
that  same  evening  and  see  if  he  could  meet  Sestrina 
wandering  by  the  palace.  He  had  met  her  several  times 
by  appointment,  but  she  had  not  turned  up  at  the  last 
appointment.  "  Old  Gravelot  must  be  home,  laid  up  with 
a  shot  wound  in  his  shoulder,  so  he's  out  of  the  way,"  he 
thought,  and  as  he  reflected  he  made  up  his  mind  to 
ask  Sestrina  if  she  would  elope  with  him  and  clear  out 
of  Hayti. 

"  I'll  see  her  to-night  if  I  have  to  sneak  into  the 
palace,"  was  his  mental  reflection  as  he  hastily  brushed 
himself  down.  It  wanted  about  two  hours  before 
sunset,  and  so  he  began  to  wander  about.  Then  he 


SESTRINA  87 

strolled  out  into  the  street  and  started  to  go  through 
the  town  so  that  he  could  take  a  walk  in  the  country 
before  it  was  time  to  go  and  haunt  the  palace  grounds 
in  an  attempt  to  meet  Sestrina. 

"  Biglow  did  not  exaggerate  about  the  people  here 
being  mad  over  fetishes  and  possible  revolutions,"  he 
thought  as  the  dark-eyed  mulatto  maids  and  handsome 
Creole  girls  and  men  stared  at  him  as  he  passed  down 
the  street.  "  Pretty  fine  state  of  affairs,"  he  thought 
as  he  began  to  ponder  over  future  possibilities,  what 
might  happen  to  Sestrina  if  a  revolution  did  break  out 
in  Hayti.  Then  he  eased  his  troubled  mind  by  recalling 
de  Cripsny's  words  when  he,  Clensy,  had  asked  him 
about  the  matter. 

"  It  might  be  months  and  months  and  den  all  smooth 
down  again,  like  it  has  done  before,"  the  half-caste 
Frenchman  had  said.  But  still,  notwithstanding  de 
Cripsny's  sanguine  outlook,  Clensy  noticed  that  the  old 
characteristic  levity  and  song  and  brightness  of  the 
city's  inhabitants  had  gone.  And  even  he  knew  that 
the  insurgents,  or  Cacaos,  as  they  were  called,  had 
become  very  powerful  as  they  massed  together  and 
gathered  recruits  from  the  cities  as  far  away  as  Vera 
Cruz  and  the  sea  ports  of  the  Caribbean  Sea.  Indeed, 
no  one  in  Hayti  knew  exactly  which  was  the  potent 
authority,  the  Cacaos  or  the  Government,  by  virtue  of 
the  superiority  of  numbers,  for,  in  Hayti,  force  of  arms 
inevitably  decided  all  political  controversies.  Biglow 
was  about  the  only  white  man  who  knew  the  true  state 
of  affairs,  and  he  knew  that  the  insurgents  were  the 
most  powerful  so  far  as  numbers  were  concerned,  also 
that  they  had  been  so  well  supplied  with  cash  from  a 
secret  source  that  they  had  been  able  to  purchase 
several  steamers  from  the  American  shipowners. 
Even  as  Clensy  arrived  at  the  top  of  the  slope  and  gazed 
seaward,  he  could  see  the  tips  of  the  mast  of  the  steamer, 
which  was  one  of  many,  that  had  stolen  into  the  harboui 
loaded  up  with  guns  and  munition  from  the  United  States. 


88  SESTRINA 

Clensy  had  arrived  into  the  wooded  part  of  the 
country,  half  a  mile  from  the  crowds  of  ugly  houses  in 
the  valleys  below.  He  quickened  his  footsteps.  His 
heart  was  thumping  with  apprehension  as  he  thought  of 
Sestrina,  and  wondered  if  any  harm  would  come  to  her 
if  a  revolution  did  break  out.  "  Oh,  to  hold  her  in  my 
arms,  kiss  her  lips,  and  feel  she  was  mine  for  ever ! 
I'd  starve,  risk  anything,  do  any  crime  to  possess  her, 
body  and  soul,  to  gaze  in  her  eyes  and  touch  her  sweet 
flesh  with  my  lips !  "  And  as  the  young  Englishman 
reflected,  the  ecstasy  of  his  feelings  for  Sestrina  seemed 
to  overwhelm  his  senses  like  a  mad  frenzy.  The  thought 
that  he  might  lose  the  girl  seemed  to  stun  him,  as 
though  destiny  had  given  him  a  tremendous  blow  on 
the  heart.  "  Why,  I'm  as  bad  as  the  frenzied  vaudoux 
worshippers,"  he  muttered  as  he  vaguely  realised  how 
strong  a,  factor  his  passions  were  in  the  ecstasy  which 
came  when  he  thought  of  Sestrina. 

"  I  haven't  always  felt  like  this.  Perhaps  it's  some 
peculiar  effect  through  seeing  those  terrible  vaudoux 
devotees  the  other  night,"  he  thought  as  he  felt  a  great 
wave  of  passion  sweep  his  better  self  away,  till  he 
wished  he  was  some  fanatic  so  that  he  might  make 
Sestrina  the  symbol  of  his  creed  and  worship  the  shrine 
of  her  loveliness  !  Clensy's  passion  for  Sestrina  had 
strangely  materialised,  changed  his  old  spiritual  ideals 
into  sensuous  dreams.  Beauty,  religion  and  all  the 
soulful  wonder  over  the  unknown  were  no  longer  visible 
to  him  in  the  mystery  of  the  skies,  but  were  expressed 
in  woman's  eyes,  her  loosened  hair,  her  red  lips  and  the 
amorous  beauty  of  her  form. 

Biglow,  only  a  day  or  two  before,  had  slapped  him  on 
the  shoulder  and  said  :  "  All  men  go  mad  once  in  their 
lifetime  over  a  woman,  but  they're  not  in  love  till  they 
stand  over  a  woman's  grave,  as  I've  done,  and  then 
seen  all  her  beauty  shining  in  the  sunlight  on  the 
flowers  over  her." 

It  must  be  admitted  that  Clensy  had  stared  long  and 


SESTRINA  89 

curiously  at  Biglow  when  he  spoke  like  that ;  it  was  so 
unexpected  from  the  lips  of  one  who  seemed  to  be  the 
last  man  who  he  would  have  expected  to  show  signs 
of  spiritual  sentiment. 

The  visible  world,  to  Clensy,  existed  only  as  a  vast 
garden  wherein  love  could  walk  and  enjoy  the  physical 
emotions  and  ecstatic  pangs  of  the  senses.  He  saw 
Creation  as  an  almighty  impassioned  lover,  holding  the 
stars  in  her  eyes  of  night,  the  oceans  kissing  her  feet  of 
a  thousand  shores.  Sex  had  become  the  godhead  of 
his  desires.  In  short,  Clensy  saw  the  world,  nay,  the 
universe  itself,  as  a  vast  deification  of  himself,  whereas 
he  was  only  the  tiniest,  humblest  miniature  of  creation's 
conscious  yearning  to  make  the  leaf  green ;  his  own 
life  no  more  than  a  sunbeam's  warmth  on  a  wild 
flower. 

And  Sestrina  ?  the  maid  of  southern  blood,  the 
light  of  the  tropic  suns  and  stars  in  her  veins  ?  She 
did  not  rave  when  she  thought  of  Clensy,  she  made  no 
god  or  goddess  of  her  physical  sensations.  Neither 
did  her  mind  conjure  up  poetical  impressions  and 
pictures  over  high  aspirations  which  were  only  daubs 
painted  from  the  fires  of  a  plysical  passion.  No ; 
Sestrina  saw  Clensy  as  some  wonderful  apostle  of  her 
own  simple  faith,  the  religion  which  was  Pere  Chaco's, 
the  Catholic  priest,  the  one  who  had  encouraged  the 
girl's  spiritual  dreams  since  she  was  a  toddling  child. 
It  was  a  pure  woman's  faith,  and  was  destined  to 
expand,  to  grow  like  a  lovely  tree  on  the  lonely  desert 
isle — the  soul  which  is  in  all  of  us — set  in  the  boundless 
seas  encircled  by  the  dim  starlit  horizons  of  mortal  imagina- 
tion, 

As  Clensy  stood  on  top  of  the  lovely  hills  and  drank 
in  the  sombre  beauty  of  the  shifting  sunlight  on  the 
ancient  trees,  he  began  to  feel  strangely  calm.  "  I'm 
worrying  about  revolutions  like  a  foolish  child ;  it's 
only  a  rumour ;  yet,  if  anything  happened  to  her ' 
Ah,  after  all,  she  is  only  a  woman,  and  so  little  dreams 


90  SESTRINA 

how  deeply  men  can  love,  how  eternal  their  faith  in 
woman  is."     Ah,  Clensy  ! 

As  Clensy  so  reflected,  he  walked  into  the  shadows  of 
the  palms  and  then  started  to  climb  the  slope's  side. 
Though  he  was  well  aware  of  the  risk  he  ran  in  wander- 
ing alone  into  the  solitudes  around  Port-au-Prince,  he 
walked  carelessly  onward.  All  that  worried  Clensy 
was  how  to  kill  time  till  dusk  fell  over  Hayti  so  that  he 
might  steal  back  to  the  palace  precincts  and  haunt  the 
orange  groves  in  the  hope  of  seeing  Sestrina.  Gazing 
around,  he  discovered  that  he  had  already  arrived  at 
the  lower  slopes  of  the  mountains.  He  could  see  the 
tiny  spirals  of  smoke  ascending  from  distant  villages 
that  were  nestled  in  the  valleys  far  to  the  right.  The 
brooding  silence  of  the  wooded  country  calmed  his 
feverish  thoughts.  His  mind  became  absorbed  in  the 
deep  philosophy  of  the  whispering  trees  and  the 
picturesqueness  of  nature's  lovely  talents  which  were 
expressed  in  all  the  tropical  scenery.  The  cool  sea 
winds,  drifting  inland,  stirred  the  tops  of  the  leafy 
trees  and  the  multitudinous  patterns  that  decorated 
the  flower-bespangled  carpet  of  the  valleys,  the  slopes 
and  rolling  hills.  What  lore  of  the  ages  were  the  wise 
old  trees  about  him  whispering  ?  He  distinctly  heard 
them  sigh  the  far-away  romance  of  the  distant  seas. 
"  How  beautiful !  "  he  murmured  as  a  faint  breath  came 
to  his  nostrils  from  the  decaying  tropical  flowers.  In 
the  magic  of  his  poetic  mood  those  richly  scented 
floating  wines  of  creation's  oldest  vintage,  intoxicated 
his  senses  and  whispered  infinite  wisdom  to  him.  The 
big  fiery  blossoms,  that  resembled  the  blooms  of  the 
Australian  waratah  tree,  brightened  the  gullies  and  hill- 
sides as  the  sun  sank  behind  the  western  peaks  of  the 
mountains.  There  was  grandeur,  a  majestic  kind  of 
beauty  in  the  sight  of  the  mighty  mahogany  trees  that 
stood  to  the  left  of  him.  But  somehow,  the  sight  of  it 
all  sickened  Clensy's  heart.  The  scenery  lacked  the 
refreshing  green  of  his  native  hills.  Clensy  had  the 


SESTRINA  91 

artistic  eye  that  loves  nature's  brooding  handiwork  in 
leaf  and  flower,  and  the  solid  architectural  grandeur  of 
gnarled  trunks.  It  was  born  in  him,  a  strain  deeper 
than  his  love  of  sensuous  beauty,  and,  so,  was  the  strain 
which  would  survive  the  mad  passions  of  sanguine 
yputh. 

"  Ah,  there's  no  scenery  in  the  world  that  can  out- 
rival the  peaceful  loveliness  of  the  English  woods,  the 
pine-clad  hills  and  the  undulating  pastures  of  richest 
green."  So  ran  Clensy's  meditations,  and  as  his  eyes 
roamed  over  the  sombre  forest  pigments,  he  thought 
of  the  wild  hedge-rose  of  his  native  land,  the  spring- 
quickening  valleys  and  the  waking  primroses,  and  felt 
homesick.  The  sombre  mahogany  trees  and  the  broad- 
leafed  palms,  in  which  droves  of  parrots  and  cockatoos 
screeched,  made  no  appeal  to  him.  Where  was  the 
melodious  poetry  of  the  full-throated  brown  thrush's 
song,  or  the  wintry  piping  of  the  robin  in  the  apple  trees, 
or  the  idly  flapping  crows  fading  away  like  the  weary 
dreams  of  sad  men  and  women  into  the  sunset  ?  The 
cockatoo's  dismal  screch  and  the  discordant  cry  of  the 
daylight  owl  have  their  music  too ;  but  ah,  what 
music  can  outrival  the  soaring  song  of  the  skylark, 
pouring  forth  its  silvery  chain  of  melody  between  the 
billowy  green  of  the  fields  and  the  eternal  blue  of  at 
English  sky  ?  And  as  Royal  Clensy  stood  on  the 
Haytian  hills  and  asked  himself  these  things,  he  wondered 
if  he  would  ever  see  the  Old  Country  again,  till  he  almost 
forgot  the  flight  of  time. 

In  a  moment  he  had  turned  about  and  had  begun  en 
retrace  his  footsteps.  "  By  the  time  I  arrive  near  the 
palace  it  will  be  dark,"  he  mused,  as  he  stared  towards 
the  west — sunset  was  flooding  the  horizon  with  ethereal 
pigments  of  saffron  and  liquid  gold,  hues  that  seemed  to 
be  magically  reflected  in  opposite  colours  of  purple, 
crimson,  and  orange  tinted  streaks  on  the  mountain 
ranges  to  the  east.  One  distant  mountain  peak 
strangely  resembled  a  mighty  dark,  forest-bearded  giant, 


92  SESTRINA 

an  Olympian  god  putting  forth  promontory-like  arms 
into  space,  holding  great  sheafs  of  golden  sunset  in  its 
hands.  It  looked  like  some  tremendous  shadowy  symbol 
of  the  eternity  of  the  past  and  the  dubious  hopes  of  the 
future,  as  though  it  would  steal  a  portion  of  the  dying 
day's  splendour  to  cheer  the  night  of  gloom  when  the 
stars  whispered  about  its  rugged,  calm,  time-wrinkled 
brow. 

As  Clensy  turned  away  from  that  weird,  yet  strangely 
beautiful  symbolical  sight  of  light  on  the  mountains,  he 
sighed.  Then  he  passed  swiftly  down  the  slopes  and 
faded  into  the  shadows  of  the  forest  below.  In  less  than 
half  an  hour  he  found  himself  standing  by  the  spot 
where  he  had  twice  secretly  met  Sestrina  after  dark. 
It  was  a  lovely  trysting  spot,  for  it  was  close  to  an 
inland  lagoon  and  was  sheltered  by  feathery  palms. 

"  Hist,  monsieur  !  "  whispered  a  voice  in  the  shadows. 

Clensy  turned  and  stared  in  astonishment. 

"  Good  heavens,  you !  "  he  exclaimed,  as  he  looked 
swiftly  this  way  and  that  way  to  see  if  the  dark  woman 
who  stood  before  him  was  accompanied  by  her  whom  he 
so  wished  to  see.  It  was  old  Claircine,  Sestrina's 
serving  maid,  who  stood  before  him  ! 

"  I  been  'ere  ebery  night,  for  two  nights,  hobing  to 
zee  yous,  monsieur,"  whispered  the  old  negress  as  she 
hastily  took  a  note  from  the  folds  of  her  rather 
dilapidated  sarong  and  handed  it  to  Clensy.  He  ripped 
the  billet  doux  open  in  feverish  haste  and  read  : 

"  OH,  MONSIEUR  ROYAL, 

"  Unhappy  am  I.  I  send  Claircine  every  night  to 
the  trysting  place  hoping  that  she  might  find  you  there, 
since  I  cannot  come  myself.  I  know  not  why,  but  my 
father  is  having  me  watched,  and  so  I  have  been  unable 
to  get  out.  I  write  this  so  that  you  may  understand 
that  Sestrina  is  always  thinking  of  you.  Ah,  monsieur, 
you  do  not  know  how  deep  are  the  thoughts  of  a  woman 
who  truly  loves.  And  since  I  am  unable  to  get  to  you, 


SESTRINA  93 

7  would  ask  you  to  come  to  me.  I  am  in  the  room  that 
is  just  above  the  balcony  at  the  back  of  the  palace,  by 
the  orange  groves  where  we  first  met.  And,  Monsieur 
Royal,  I  would  have  you  to  know  that  the  grape  vine 
grows  thick  on  the  walls  below  my  chamber's  casement, 
which  is  ever  open.  So,  Monsieur  Royal,  should  an 
enemy  ivish  to  climb  up  the  wall  and  enter  my  room 
to  slay  me,  it  could  be,  alas,  easily  accomplished.  Think 
well,  0  Monsieur,  over  this  danger  of  mine,  and  I  will 
retire  late  to-morrow  night. 

Believe  me,  0  Monsieur  Royal,  to  be  your 

"  unhappy  SESTRINA,  till  I  see  you" 

So  ran  Sestrina's  note.  The  style  had  obviously 
been  inspired  by  French  novels.  The  delicate  hint 
thrown  out  in  that  epistle  thrilled  Clensy.  What  else 
could  Sestrina  mean  than  to  hint  that  he  could,  with 
ease,  climb  up  the  grape-vine  which  grew  thickly  on  the 
walls  below  her  chamber  ?  In  another  moment  he  had 
taken  a  small  bit  of  paper  from  his  pocket  and  had 
written  : 

"  Beloved  Sestrina, — //  woman  loves  deeply,  how 
deep  must  be  the  love  of  man  ?  I  will  be  with  you 
to-morrow  night  a  few  moments  after  dusk.  The  grape- 
vine outside  your  chamber's  window  will  bear  the  sweetest 
thoughts  and  fruits  of  love  as  it  brings  me  to  your  lips 
and  eyes. 
"  In  haste. 

"  Yours, 

"  ROYAL." 

Claircine    curtsied,  then  greedily    grabbed  the  coin. 

"  Go  immediately  and  give  this  note  to  your  mistress." 

"  Bat  I  will,  monsieur  !  " 

No  sooner  was  the  kind  old  negress  out  of  sight,  than 
Clensy  bee;an  to  reflect.  "  What  an  ass  I  am !  Why 
on  earth  didn't  I  say  that  I  would  go  to-night  and 


94  SESTRINA 

climb  the  grape-vine  ?  "  And  as  he  mused  and  thought 
over  Sestrina's  letter,  he  resolved  to  go  to  the  palace 
that  very  night.  "  By  Jove  !  what  a  chance,  only  a 
grape-vine  to  climb  and  then — Sestrina's  eyes  and 
arms." 

Night  lay  over  the  palm-clad  hills  around  Port-au- 
Prince.  Clensy  had  already  reached  the  palace  grounds. 
He  had  escaped  the  vigilant  eyes  of  two  big  negroes, 
who  did  sentry  duty  at  the  palace  gates,  by  climbing 
over  the  stone  walls  in  the  rear  of  the  palace.  "  Thank 
heaven  the  moon  isn't  up  yet,"  Clensy  thought  as  he 
slipped  into  the  shade  of  the  bamboos  and  looked  up 
at  the  sky. 

The  tropic  twilight  and  the  ethereal,  pulsing  gleams 
of  a  thousand  thousand  stars  gave  sufficient  light  for 
Clensy's  requirements  that  night.  For  a  moment  he 
stood  perfectly  still.  Being  assured  that  no  one  was 
about,  he  crept  stealthily  forward,  pushing  the  tall 
ferns  and  scrub  apart  with  his  hands,  very  softly,  so 
that  his  advance  made  no  rustle.  Slipping  noiselessly 
under  the  orange  groves  he  felt  more  at  his  ease.  He 
was  now  familiar  with  the  surroundings.  He  was  at 
the  spot  where  he  had  first  met  and  walked  with  Ses- 
trina  after  his  first  engagement  as  pianist  at  the  presi- 
dential ball. 

"  How  romantic,  I'm  like  the  hero  of  a  romantic  novel, 
blest  if  I'm  not,"  he  thought  as  he  peered  cautiously 
through  the  thickets  of  bamboos  and  spied  the  balcony 
that  fronted  the  chamber  wherein  Sestrina  slept. 

Creeping  close  to  the  wall  he  spied  the  thick  stems 
of  the  grape-vine  that  soared  to  the  vine-covered 
casement.  To  Clensy's  romantic  soul  it  was  indeed 
the  magic  casement  that  opened  on  the  green  foams 
of  leafy,  wind-stirred  palms  and  perilous  seas  of  romance. 
Even  as  he  watched  and  listened  Clensy  heard  the 
palms  sigh  some  whispering  melody  that  came  in  from 
the  ocean.  The  fireflies  were  dancing  like  miniature 
constellations  of  stars  in  leafy  glooms.  A  strange  bird 


SESTRINA  95 

began  to  sing,  somewhere  up  in  the  mahogany  tree 
hard  by.  "  Too- willow,  too- willow  it-te- willowy  Ian- 
lone,  wee-it !  "  it  went,  ere  it  burst  forth  into  a  merry 
tinkling  song,  as  though  it  had  suddenly  got  wind  of 
all  that  was  happening  ! 

Clensy  stood  still  and  gazed  intently  up  at  the  half- 
op'en  casement :  he  could  see  no  light.  "  Perhaps  she's 
asleep  ?  Or  maybe  she  hasn't  retired  yet  ?  "  And, 
as  he  reflected,  he  lit  a  cigarette,  carefully  hiding  the 
gleam  of  the  lighted  match  in  the  closed  hollows  of  his 
hands.  Already  his  romantic  imagination  had  begun 
to  picture  Sestrina  in  her  chamber.  He  began  to  feel 
nervous. 

"  Perhaps  I  should  first  throw  a  pebble,  give  her 
some  warning,"  he  thought  as  he  puffed  away  at  his 
cigarette  and  wondered  what  Sestrina  would  think  to 
see  him  appear  at  her  chamber-casement  without  due 
warning.  "  Pish !  what  does  it  matter  ?  She  is  a 
sensible  Haytian  girl,  not  a  namby-pamby  European 
girl,"  he  muttered  as  he  tried  to  find  an  excuse  for  his 
own  meditations. 

Clensy's  adoration  for  materialised  beauty,  the 
inherent  greed  of  his  love  of  the  sensuous — which  he 
imagined  was  spiritual  love — had  made  him  secretly 
aspire  to  see  something  different  to  the  shadowy, 
divine  loveliness  that  the  pure  poetic  imagination 
pictures  when  dreaming  over  the  charms  of  the  woman 
loved.  He  aspired  to  see  something  which  would 
correspond  with  all  that  his  physical  senses  felt,  not  the 
visionary  form  that  feeds  the  imagination  eternally  with 
increasing  hope  and  beauty,  making  the  Fates  whisper 
into  the  lover's  ears  ; 

"  She  cannot  fade,  though  thou  hast  not  thy  bliss, 
Forever  wilt  thou  love,  and  she  be  fair  !  " 

And  so  Clensy  was  bound  to  be  disillusioned.  True 
enough,  it  was  a  brief  disillusionment,  but  it  came  like 


96  SESTRINA 

a  hint  that  would  reveal  the  briefness  of  sensuous 
beauty :  and  that's  all.  It  did  not  give  him  a  hint, 
one  prophetic  glimpse  of  the  terrible  drama,  the  un- 
speakable irony  of  human  things,  the  vision  of  the 
truth  which  his  eyes  were  to  see,  when,  with  wisdom 
and  sorrow  in  his  soul,  he  goes  out  of  the  last  page  of 
this  story. 

As  Clensy  stood  there  in  the  shadows  of  the  bamboos 
his  eyes  brightened  over  his  thoughts.  Yet  he  still 
hesitated.  He  had  been  reared  in  polite  society ;  he 
was  the  son  of  a  gentleman  and  had  ever  lifted  his  hat 
when  he  passed  a  lady.  And  now — where  was  his 
spirit  of  chivalry  ? 

"  Men  have  done  worse  when  they  have  truly  loved 
a  beautiful  woman.  And  this  is  Hayti,  not  England ! 
Hayti  !  "  ;  and  thinking  in  this  wise,  he  thought  of 
Sestrina  sitting  in  the  seclusion  of  her  chamber  and 
scattered  his  qualms  to  the  winds.  "  Hayti,  land  of 
romance  and  song,  and  Sestrina,"  murmured  his  ardent 
thoughts  as  he  put  forth  his  hands  and  began  to  climb 
up  the  thick  runners  of  the  grape-vine !  The  thought 
of  what  he  might  see  when  he  reached  the  balcony  and 
peeped  into  Sestrina's  chamber  intoxicated  his  senses. 

As  he "  slowly  climbed,  he  seemed  to  drift  into  a 
subconscious  state.  How  carefully  he  climbed.  Hand 
over  hand  he  stealthily  ascended,  one  false  step  and  the 
spheres  would  roll  askew !  He  suddenly  stopped  and 
breathed  a  sigh  of  relief.  He  had  reached  the  jutting 
floor  of  the  balcony.  With  his  right  hand  he  gripped 
the  thick  stem  of  the  grape-vine,  then,  throwing  his 
head  back,  he  put  forth  his  disengaged  hand  and  grasped 
the  outer  support  post  of  the  railings.  The  next  minute 
he  had  twisted  his  body  back — for  one  moment  he  hung 
suspended  in  space,  the  next  moment  he  had  clutched 
the  vine-clad  railings,  and  had  pulled  himself  up — he  was 
standing  on  the  balcony !  His  form  was  hidden  in  the 
deep  shadows  of  the  overhanging  mahogany  tree's 
branches.  For  a  moment  he  groped  about  in  trembling 


SESTRINA  97 

indecision.  It  was  then  that  he  noticed  the  glimmer 
of  light  stealing  through  the  clusters  of  flowers  that  grew 
about  a  casement  to  the  right  of  him.  "  Her  chamber  !  " 
He  hesitated.  In  that  supreme  moment  his  grosser 
thoughts  vanished.  He  felt  as  one  might  feel  if  about 
to  fix  the  eye  at  a  telescope  tube  that  would  reveal 
the  ethereal  landscapes  and  roaming  angels  of  another 
world.  The  next  moment  he  had  boldly  fixed  his  eye 
to  a  chink  in  the  half-open  shutter. 

He  stood  in  perfect  safety,  for  the  clusters  of  flowers 
and  hanging  vine  completely  hid  him.  "  In  bed  !  "  was 
his  mental  ejaculation.  He  saw  the  bunched  counter- 
pane, its  crimson  lace  fringe  all  crumpled.  The  outline 
of  the  lone  occupant  was  distinctly  visible  through  the 
misty  mosquito  curtains  that  draped  the  bed,  hanging 
tent-like  from  the  four  high  brass-nobbed  posts. 

"  She's  reading  !  How  small  a  chamber,  how  poorly 
furnished ! "  A  chill  of  disappointment  struck  his 
heart  :  he  expected  to  see  something  so  different. 
Where  was  the  wild  confusion  of  falling  tresses  ?  Where 
the  magic  of  dreaming  eyes,  and  the  secret  loveliness  of 
a  maiden's  deshabille  ?  Ah,  Clensy !  He  had  yet  to 
learn  that  nothing  corresponds  with  a  mortal's  con- 
ceptions of  beauty,  that  only  dreams  bring  happiness  ; 
that  beauty  like  the  horizon  is  to  be  imagined  only, 
shadowed  stars  in  water,  yes,  even  as  the  stars  are  only 
the  reflex  of  their  hidden  realities. 

And  still  he  stared.  "  Only  the  outline  of  her  form 
under  a  sheet !  Well !  I'll  tap  the  casement  and  then 

she'll  turn  in  her  bed,  yet — perhaps  I'd  better !  " 

He  gasped.  The  mosquito  curtains  had  been  swiftly 
pushed  aside  !  "  Heavens,  she's  getting  out  of  bed  !  " 
He  gazed  with  burning  eyes.  The  supreme  moment  had 
arrived.  The  ecstasy  of  his  imaginings,  all  that  mystery 
and  loveliness  which  he  expected  to  see,  made  his  brain 
reel.  Just  for  a  second  he  closed  his  eyes,  yes,  one 
wondrous  blink  ere  his  eyelids  parted  and  he  gazed 
again.  What  had  happened  ?  Anguish  had  wrinkled 
G 


98  SESTRINA 

his  brow !  He  could  hardly  suppress  a  cry  of  horroi 
escaping  his  lips — two  bony,  skeleton-like  legs  had 
suddenly  protruded  from  beneath  the  laced  edges  of 
the  counterpane !  The  castle  of  romance,  all  the 
loveliness  which  his  imagination  had  conjured  up,  fell 
with  a  silent  crash !  The  sight  of  those  skinny  legs, 
covered  with  shrunken  flesh,  looking  like  unfilled 
sausage  skins,  sent  an  icy  chill  to  his  heart.  That 
awful  sight  was,  to  him,  like  the  Egyptian  skull  of 
death  shown,  not  before  the  festivities,  but  in  the 
presence  of  empty  dishes  and  wineless  goblets. 

"  Thank  God !  "  he  murmured  as  he  stared  again — 
he  had  peeped  through  the  wrong  casement,  it  was 
upon  the  old  negress,  Claircine,  that  he  had  spied.  She 
had  leapt  from  her  bed  to  put  the  lamp  out !  Clensy's 
ludicrous  mistake  made  him  feel  sane.  The  sight  of 
Claircine's  skinny  legs  waving  in  space  for  one  second 
ere  they  attained  the  perpendicular,  had  taught  him 
more  about  the  vanity  of  human  wishes  and  the  brief- 
ness of  beauty  than  all  the  philosophies  in  existence. 

For  a  moment  he  felt  an  abject  fool.  Then  the 
reaction  set  in.  His  imagination  began,  in  feverish 
haste,  to  conjure  up  voluptuous  pictures  of  Sestrina's 
beauty,  all  that  she  must  look  like  when  compared  to 
poor  emaciated,  shrunken  Claircine. 

"  What  an  ass  I  am,"  he  murmured  as  he  began  to 
creep  in  haste  on  his  hands  and  knees  towards  the 
next  casement.  The  shutters  of  that  casement  were 
also  half  opened  and  conveniently  hidden  by  clusters 
of  flowers  and  twining  vine.  Pushing  the  leaves  aside 
with  his  hands,  he  peeped  once  again.  No  mistake 
this  time !  There  on  a  couch  was  Sestrina's  reclining 
form.  She  was  leaning  back  on  the  couch's  arm,  her 
hair  down,  falling  in  perfect  confusion  over  her  half-clad 
shoulders.  The  delicate  drapery  of  the  couch  was 
disturbed  where  one  of  her  legs  was  lifted,  the  left 
knee  softly  couched,  inclined  over  the  right  leg.  The 
silken  brown  stocking,  barely  reaching  to  the  knee, 


SESTRINA  9S 

intensified  the  soft  warm  flush  of  beauty  and  each 
dimpled  curve.  She  placed  her  fingers  between  the 
laced  division  of  her  unbuttoned  bodice,  and  taking 
forth  a  tiny  scented  handkerchief,  placed  it  to  her 
face,  which  was  half  hidden  by  the  tangled  folds  of  her 
tresses,  and  wept ! 

The  sight  of  the  weeping  girl  filled  Clensy's  heart 
with  sorrow — and  shame.  He  sighed,  and  then,  for  all 
his  remorse,  stared  again.  Sestrina  had  lifted  her  face, 
and,  placing  her  hands  on  either  cheek,  was  staring  in 
tearful  thought  at  the  ceiling. 

"  To-morrow  night  and  he  will  be  here  !  Ah,  how  I 
long  to  gaze  in  his  eyes,  to  hear  him  say  those  words 
again." 

Clensy  had  moved  closer  to  the  half-open  shutter  : 
his  perfidious  ears  drank  in  every  word  that  escaped 
Sestrina's  lips.  She  sighed.  He  saw  her  lips  tremble 
as  she  breathed  some  rapturous  thought.  "  What  was 
she  saying  to  herself  ?  "  Clensy  leaned  forward  ;  the 
boards  beneath  his  feet  creaked !  His  figure  stiffened 
as  he  stood  alert,  breathless  in  suspense.  Had  she 
heard  that  creak  ?  He  breathed  a  sigh  of  relief. 

Sestrina  must  have  thought  it  was  a  night  bird 
flattering  in  the  boughs  of  the  mahogany  tree  just 
beyond  her  window.  She  had  arisen  from  her  couch. 
Her  eyes  sparkled  as  though  in  the  delight  of  some 
sudden  happy  idea.  She  moved  towards  the  mirror, 
and,  tossing  her  ringlets  into  greater  confusion,  gazed 
upon  her  image.  One  glossy  ringlet  strayed  from  its 
companions  and  curied  serpentwise  down  over  the 
billowy  softness  of  her  bosom,  which  was  revealed 
through  her  unlaced  bodice. 

Clensy  stared  at  her  figure  just  as  a  mad  sculptor 
might  stare  on  his  masterpiece.  The  charm  of  her 
deshabille,  the  mystery  of  her  fluttering  lingerie  as  the 
orange  and  lemon  scented  zephyrs  floated  through  the 
open  casement,  intoxicated  his  senses.  He  stood 
spellbound,  his  eyes  drinking  in  the  delicate  harmony 


100  SESTRINA 

of  each  outline.  His  soul  was  thrilled  with  the  beauty 
and  mystery  of  all  that  was  left  to  his  imagination,  all 
that  was  suggested,  since  he  could  only  see  her  pretty 
sandalled  feet,  a  glimpse  of  the  arms'  whiteness  and  the 
loveliness  revealed  between  the  luxuriance  of  her 
falling  tresses.  "  God,  how  beautiful !  "  he  murmured. 

A  deep  feeling  of  reverence  for  the  girl  crept  into 
his  sinful  heart.  There  was  something  so  innocent 
about  her  pose,  and  her  every  action.  She  had  opened 
a  tiny  sandal  wood  box,  and  taking  therefrom  a  small 
powder-puff  had  softly  dabbed  it  on  a  pimple  that 
looked  as  though  a  ladybird  had  flown  through  the 
open  casement  'and  had  settled  on  the  warm  whiteness 
of  her  bosom.  Certainly  a  peculiar  impression  to  get 
on  Clensy's  mind,  but  it  was  just  like  him  ! 

"  Why  does  she  weep  ?  I  had  thought  to  see  her 
happy,"  murmured  Clensy  as  Sestrina  placed  the 
powder-pufi  on  the  toilet,  and  then  gazed  in  the  mirror 
on  her  own  tearful  eyes. 

Clensy  did  not  know  that  there  had  been  misery  in 
the  palace  for  the  last  three  days.  First  of  all,  Sestrina 
and  Claircine  and  Gravelot's  valet,  Zelong,  had  sat  up 
all  night  talking  about  the  rumours  of  a  revolution. 
And  then  the  President  had  arrived  home  at  midnight 
in  a  fainting  condition,  a  bullet  wound  in  his  shoulder. 
He  had  fallen  down  in  the  hall.  His  eyes  had  no  longer 
looked  cruel. 

"  Forgive  me,  Sestrina,"  he  had  murmured  as  Clair- 
cine, Sestrina,  and  Zelong  had  helped  carry  him  into 
his  chamber. 

When  Sestrina  had  found  herself  alone  with  her 
parent,  she  had  wished  to  send  for  a  doctor.  But,  no, 
Gravelot  would  not  hear  of  such  a  thing.  And  so, 
Sestrina  carefully  bathed  and  bound  the  shot-wound 
which  had  been  inflicted  by  Biglow's  revolver.  That 
same  night  the  President  had  confessed  to  his  daughter 
that  he  had  been  under  the  vile  spell  of  the  vaudoux 
worship. 


, 


SESTRINA  101 

Sestrina  tried  to  soothe  her  father  as  he  wept.  His 
sobered  senses  made  him  realise  the  wickedness  and 
cruelty  of  the  papaloi  and  their  fetish  rites. 

"  Thank  God,  Sestrina,  that  you  were  strong  enough 
to  resist  and  keep  true  to  your  old  Pere  Chaco,"  he 
tried,  as  he  thought  of  all  that  would  have  happened 
to  the  girl  had  she  responded  to  his  wishes  and  attended 
the  vaudoux  temples. 

Then  the  President  had  told  Sestrina  of  his  fears,  how 
the  Cacaos  were  rising  in  great  force.  Sestrina  was 
astonished  when  her  father  informed  her  that  the 
palace  might  be  stormed  by  the  rebels  if  they  once  got 
into  the  town.  Then  he  had  said :  "  Sestrina,  if  anything 
happens  to  me,  you  must  fly  from  the  palace  and  seek 
safety  on  one  of  the  Government  steamers  and  so  get 
away  from  Hayti  as  soon  as  possible.  The  insurgents 
would  surely  shoot  all  who  are  related  to  me."  And 
when  the  President,  continuing,  said,  "  You  must  not 
leave  the  palace  on  any  account,  for  I  have  received 
information  that  several  Cacaos  chiefs  are  on  watch 
to  get  my  body  dead  or  alive,"  Sestrina  had  felt 
terribly  upset.  Consequently  she  had  writen  to  Clensy 
and  begged  him  to  come  to  her,  and  at  the  same 
time  had  kept  her  true  reasons  for  taking  this 
bold  course  to  herself.  It  was  not  till  Claircine 
had  gone  off  with  the  note  in  '  hopes  to  see  Clensy 
and  give  it  him,  that  Sestrina,  woman-like,  had 
reflected  on  the  matter  and  realised  how  dangerous 
it  would  be  for  Clensy,  a  white  man,  to  be  seen  stealthily 
approaching  the  palace  after  dark. 

"  Mon  Dieu  !  the  sentinels  will  think  he  is  an  assassin, 
will  think  he  is  some  Cacaos  chief  waiting  in  ambush  to 
slay  my  father.  0,  mon  Dieu  /  he  will  be  shot,  and 
all  through  me !  It  is  I  who  have  told  him  to  come 
And  climb  the  grape-vine  to-morrow  night !  " 

And  as  she  sat  there  on  the  couch  in  her  chamber, 
she  once  more  bowed  her  head  and  wept  bitterly. 

"  To-morrow    night !     To-morrow !     I    must    write 


102  SESTRINA 

another  note  and  tell  Claircine  that  it  means  death  to 
Monsieur  Royal  if  she  does  not  deliver  it  to  him." 

And  as  she  sighed,  she  gazed  tearfully  towards  her 
casement,  little  dreaming  that  her  lover's  eyes  at  that 
very  moment  gazed  upon  her  from  behind  the  clusters 
of  flowers  of  the  half-hidden  trellis  work.  As  she 
sighed,  Clensy  once  more  inclined  his  head  and 
listened. 

"  Oh  !  kind  Pere  Chaco,  I  will  see  him  to-morrow  and 
confess  all,  and  then  he  will  pray  for  his  safety,  for  my 
beautiful  Royal's  soul." 

Sestrina  had  taken  a  tiny  crucifix  from  the  fold  of  her 
robe  and,  touching  it  with  her  lips,  had  murmured 
"  Royal !  " 

Clensy's  eyes,  as  they  stared  through  tke  scented 
leaves  and  crimson  blooms,  brightened,  shone  like  stars. 
His  impassioned  thoughts  were  expressed  on  his  flushed 
face.  He  seemed  to  lose  control  over  his  senses  and 
limbs  too — he  had  leaned  forward,  and,  swaying  like 
something  blown  by  a  great  wind,  he  fell  through  the 
open  casement. 

"  Royal !  " 

"  Sestrina  mine  !  " 

The  next  second  they  were  in  each  other's  arms. 

Since  the  propriety  of  the  means  which  Clensy  had 
taken  to  meet  Sestrina  that  night  can  be  quibbled  over, 
and  with  perfect  justice  too,  the  exclusion  of  much 
which  they  said  and  did  can  remain  unrecorded  without 
hurting  the  feelings  of  the  sensitive,  conventional 
minded.  It  will  suffice  to  say,  that  Royal  Clensy  was 
a  gentleman.  The  fact  that  the  young  Englishman 
had  crawled  on  all  fours,  and  without  announcing  his 
presence,  into  a  maiden's  bedroom  at  midnight,  must 
not  let  it  be  assumed  that  our  hero  had  a  perverted 
mind.  The  strange  things  that  heroes  and  lovers  think 
are  often  very  different  from  the  things  that  they  do — 
even  when  the  opportunity  of  doing  strange  things  pre- 
sents itself.  Though  Clensy's  ,love  dream  was  sensuous 


SESTRINA  103 

more  than  spiritual,  he  was  not  a  bad  type.  He 
had  a  love  of  naturalness  and  a  great  hatred  for  the 
sickening  realities  of  conventional  life. 

He  had  long  ago  spoken  to  himself  and  see  through  the 
mighty  pretence  of  civilised  communities  in  the  cities, 
w^ere  fat  old  men  and  women  passed  in  their  robes  of 
splendour  through  the  door  of  the  temple  of  fame. 
Metaphorically  speaking,  he  had  sickened  of  seeing  the 
devotees  of  European  vaudoux  worship  kneel  before 
the  sacrificial  altars  of  hot  meats,  burning  wines,  and 
highly-seasoned  foods.  Even  in  his  own  little  brief 
worship  at  the  altars  of  the  terrible  European  papaloi 
he  had  felt  indignation  when  some  wealthy  British 
vaudoux  chief  had  caught  a  maiden  of  innocence,  had 
lured  her  into  the  presence  of  the  gaudy  vaudoux 
temples,  and  had  then  sacrificed  her  strangled  body  on 
the  bloodthirsty  altars  of  his  heathenish  deities.  Let  it 
be  said,  on  Clensy's  behalf,  that  he  had  often  gazed  on 
his  own  white  unsoiled  hands  and  felt  compassion  for 
the  corn-hardened  hands  of  weary  men  who  had  been 
born  where  the  sad,  mechanical  charity  organisation 
officials  loudly  knocked  the  door.  Long  ago  he  had 
realised  that  the  trembling  hand  that  toiled  in  the  mud 
or  brushed  the  boots  of  prosperity,  might  easily  be  the 
hand  that  could  pen  the  perfect  poem,  or  paint  the 
outlines  of  the  sorrowful  saints  and  Madonnas,  yes,  the 
visionary  creations  that  haunt  the  minds  of  men  who 
are  adherents  to  the  great  inborn  creed,  and  worship  at 
the  sombre,  sad  altars  of  the  Gospel  of  Truth  and 
Beauty.  Clensy  also  had  the  instinctive  insight  of  the 
artist  in  his  soul,  consequently  he  saw  Sestrina  as  a 
child  who  favoured  his  presence  in  her  chamber  because 
she  felt  utterly  alone,  and  was  one  who  had  perfect 
trust  in  him  by  virtue  of  her  own  innocence. 

Sestrina  gazed  into  his  eyes  a  moment,  then  turned 
her  face  away.  Ah,  how  beautiful  she  looked  as 
she  stood  there  clasped  in  Clensy's  arms,  wiping  the 
tears  from  her  eyes  with  the  tiny  flower-decorated 


SESTRINA 

handkerchief.  For  she  had  wept  afresh  in  her  delight 
at  the  sudden  presence  of  her  handsome  lover. 

Clensy  bade  her  sit  down  on  the  couch.  And  there, 
as  Clensy  held  her  hand,  while  the  fireflies  danced  about 
the  wine-scented  flowers  of  the  open  casement  and  the 
Haytian  nightingale  sang  in  the  palms,  Sestrina  took 
delicate  sniffs  from  her  salt-bottle  and  slowly  told  him 
all  that  troubled  her. 

When  Clensy  heard  of  her  father's  fears  over  a  possible 
revolution,  he  could  hardly  believe  his  ears.  Though 
he  was  acquainted  with  all  that  rumour  told  about  the 
mysterious  Cacaos  in  the  Black  Mountains,  he  had  not 
really  seriously  reflected  over  the  matter,  but  had  put 
it  all  down  to  the  ignorant  babblings  of  the  negro 
population.  It  all  sounded  so  different  to  him,  coming 
from  Sestrina's  lips.  "  Revolution !  Palace  bom- 
barded !  Incredible  !  "  And  as  the  girl  spoke  on  and 
he  reflected  deeply  and  began  to  see  things  in  their 
serious,  possibly  true  perspective,  his  first  thought  was 
over  Sestrina's  safety.  The  ardency  of  his  affection 
for  Sestrina  swiftly  inspired  him  with  thoughts  as  to 
the  best  and  happiest  way  to  get  out  of  the  difficulty. 

"  Sestrina,  if  the  palace  is  attacked  by  the  rebels, 
you  might  get  killed." 

"  I  know,  Monsieur  Royal." 

"  And,  knowing  this,  Sestrina  dearest,  I  beg  of  you 
to  consent  to  fly  with  me  from  this  cursed  hole  at  the 
first  opportunity.  I've  got  plenty  of  money,  and  we 
can  get  married  somewhere  and  somehow.  Will  you 
do  this,  Sestrina  ?  " 

President  Gravelot's  daughter  gazed  at  the  flushed 
face  of  the  young  Englishman  like  a  wondering  child — 
with  wide-open  eyes.  Then  she  blushed  deeply.  She 
had  realised  something  of  the  import  of  what  he  had 
suddenly  asked  of  her. 

"  Do  you  mean  that  I  be  your  wife  ?  "  she  whispered 
as  she  gazed  intently  into  his  eyes.  Then  she  smiled, 
aud  placing  her  arms  round  his  neck,  kissed  him  softly 


SESTRINA  105 

on  the  cheek.  Then  she  softly  released  her  clasp  and 
slid  gently  to  the  floor,  fell  on  her  knees  before  Clensy 
so  that  he  could  kiss  the  flowers  in  her  hair.  It  was  an 
old  Haytian  custom,  and  exactly  according  to  fashion 
when  a  maid  was  willing  to  accept  one  as  a  husband. 

-Clensy  sat  perfectly  silent.    Boundless  happiness  had 
left  him  speechless  for  the  moment. 

"  Way  in  Australia  ;  how  beautiful !  "  whispered 
Sestrina  when  Clensy  had  told  her  that  he  had  wealthy 
relatives  in  Melbourne,  and  it  was  there  that  he  would 
take  her. 

"  You  agree  to  fly  from  the  palace  and  come  to  me 
at  the  first  sign  of  danger  ?  "  he  said. 

Sestrina  nodded  her  head  vigorously. /  Then  they 
planned  and  planned. 

"  Should  anything  occur  that  separatee  us,  I  will  fly 
to  Honolulu  and  wait  till  you  come." 

"  Why  Honolulu,  Monsieur  Royal  ?  " 

"  It's  there  that  my  people  in  England  will  send  my 
next  letters  with  my  money  in  them.  Also,  we  can 
easily  get  a  passage  on  one  of  the  ships  for  Melbourne 
in  Honolulu." 

And  as  Clensy  spoke  on  and  arranged  a  meeting  spot 

at  the  T Hotel  in  B Street,  Honolulu,  Sestrina's 

heart  bubbled  with  joy.  In  the  excitement  of  it  all  she 
quite  forgot  her  father's  troubles,  and  the  danger  of  the 
revolution,  should  there  be  a  rising. 

Though  Clensy's  plans  to  fly  to  Honolulu  with 
Sestrina  and  go  from  there  to  Melbourne  might  sound 
foolish  to  worldly  minds,  it  was  the  most  manly  and 
the  safest  course  to  follow.  For,  as  has  already  been 
hinted,  and  as  Haytian  history  shows,  the  periodical 
risings  in  Hayti  were  conducted  with  indescribable  fury 
and  bloodshed.  The  element  of  negro  blood  in  the  vast 
population  asserted  itself  in  terrific  fury  after  having 
been  pent  up  by  the  laws  that  compelled  restraint  for 
the  passions  and  instinctive  love  of  bloodshedding  in 
the  half-caste  Haytians.  Men,  women  and  children 


106  SESTRINA 

were  shot  down  at  sight  by  the  insurgents  ;  nothing 
was  sacred  when  the  war-fever  was  raging.  Whole 
towns  were  fired,  razed  to  the  ground,  and  the  adherents 
of  the  vaudoux  creed  lit  fetish  fires  in  the  mountains 
and  indulged  in  frenzied  dancing,  debauchery,  lust  and 
cannibalism.  And  so  Clensy  was  wise  in  advising 
Sestrina  to  fly  with  him  or  by  herself  to  Honolulu  should 
the  revolution  break  out  after  all.  She  was  Gravelot's 
daughter,  and  the  rebels  would  probably  shoot  her  at 
sight. 

"  Your  father,  the  president,  owns  several  steamers, 
so  you  would  have  little  trouble  in  getting  away  should 
I  lose  sight  of  you,"  he  said,  as  Sestrina  and  he  sat  side 
by  side  in  deep  thought. 

"  Yes,  he  has,"  said  Sestrina,  and  then,  in  response 
to  Clensy's  query,  she  told  him  that  the  steamers  ran 
between  Port-au-Prince  and  the  seaports  in  the  Gulf 
of  Mexico  and  Caribbean  Sea,  going  as  far  as  Vera  Cruz. 

"  But  why  worry  ?  There  may  be  no  revolution, 
after  all,"  he  murmured  as  he  tried  to  soothe  Sestrina's 
fears.  For  the  girl  seemed  worried  about  her  father, 
as  she  wondered  over  all  what  might  happen  to  him  if 
the  palace  was  bombarded. 

It  was  at  this  moment  that  the  little  door  that  divided 
Sestrina's  chamber  from  the  next  apartment  opened 
and  revealed  Claircine's  ebony-hued,  smiling  face.  In 
her  dusky  hand  she  held  a  silver  salver,  whereon  was  a 
small  decanter  of  light  Haytian  wine.  Claircine  had, 
and  with  commendable  discreetness,  kept  in  the  back- 
ground till  that  moment.  She  had  heard  voices,  and 
had  immediately  jumped  out  of  bed  and,  placing  her 
eye  to  the  keyhole,  had  seen  Clensy  and  her  mistress 
sitting  on  the  settee,  their  faces  turned  one  toward  the 
other  as  thejf  kissed  and  embraced. 

"  Mon  Dieu,  si  aoe  ma  eperdi  suka,"  she  had  cried  in 
the  Creole  tongue  as  she  lifted  her  hands  to  the  ceiling 
in  horror — and  then  peeped  again. 


SESTR1NA  107 

"  Ah,  Claircine,  is  he  not  handsome  ?  "  whispered 
Sestrina  as  she  and  the  negress  stood  trembling  by  the 
open  casement  through  which  Clensy  a  moment  before 
had  taken  his  undignified  departure. 

"  You  have  now  heard  for  yourself  what  he  thinks  of 
you  and  of  your  kind  face  and  nice  figure,"  said  Sestrina, 
referring  to  Clensy's  wicked  flattery  when  he  looked  the 
negress  straight  in  the  eyes  a  few  moments  before. 

"  Ah,  si  ver  du  pero,  ma  seque,"  murmured  the  old 
negress  as  she  placed  her  dusky  hand  above  her  throbbing 
heart,  little  dreaming  how  Clensy  had  been  shocked  at 
the  sight  of  her  skinny  legs  an  hour  before  ! 

Sestrina's  heart  fluttered  as  she  leaned  over  the 
balcony's  railing  and  watched  her  lover  slowly  descend, 
step  by  step,  down  the  thick  stems  of  the  grape-vine. 
"Mon  Dieu,"  she  wailed  as  she  noticed  that  the  moon- 
rise  was  sending  waves  of  pale  light  over  the  distant 
mountain  ranges  and  far  down  into  the  valleys  by  the 
palace  grounds,  "  he  will  be  seen !  "  But  her  fears 
were  needless.  She  saw  Clensy's  form  hasten  across 
the  yam  patch  far  beyond  the  palace  grounds.  The 
next  moment  he  had  disappeared  into  the  depths,  under 
the  great  mahogany  trees. 


The  next  day  Clensy  suddenly  walked  into  Biglow's 
lodgings,  near  the  market-place  at  Selle.  Adams  was 
sitting  by  the  window  that  opened  on  to  the  veranda, 
tugging  his  side- whiskers.  His  face  wore  a  serious 
expression,  and  was  as  red  as  boiled  beetroot. 

"  Where  yer  been  to  ?  "  he  said  in  a  husky  voice  as 
he  stared  up  at  Clensy. 

Clensy  made  no  reply,  but  simply  looked  round  the 
room  and  wondered  why  Biglow  was  so  busy  packing 
his  old  carpet  bag. 

"  Going  to  move  again  ?  "  he  said,  as  Biglow  looked 
up,  gave  him  a  friendly  glance  and  then  continued  to 
ram  pipes,  thread  and  coloured  shirts  into  the  bag. 


108  SESTRINA 

Biglow  suddenly  ceased  from  packing,  and,  standing 
erect,  said : 

"  If  you  hang  about  here  after  Sestrina  much  more, 
you'll  get  shot.  Savvy  ?  " 

"  I'll  hang  about  who  I  like,  Mr.  Bartholomew 
Biglow,"  replied  Clensy,  with  considerable  warmth. 
He  was  rather  sensitive  about  any  remarks  that  referred 
to  Sestrina,  for  Adams  and  Biglow  had  chaSed  him  a 
good  deal  of  late  over  his  infatuation  for  Gravel  of  s 
daughter. 

"  So !  so  !  good  lad  ;  don't  be  angry.  Sestrina's 
worth  a  hundred  maids  and  shots  in  the  back.  Got 
beautiful  eyes  too.  Reminds  me  of  Queen  Vaekehu, 
of  the  Marquesas,  my  first  wife,"  said  Biglow. 

"  Your  queen  wasn't  a  patch  on  Sestrina.  Never 
seed  a  girl  wif  such  beautiful  eyes  and  lovely  bust," 
chimed  in  Adams,  who  at  the  same  time  gave  Clensy  a 
friendly  wink. 

"  Don't  be  silly,"  said  Clensy  as  he  calmed  down  ; 
then  he  added,  "  Why  are  you  packing  up  ?  " 

"  Because  it's  a-coming,  a  blasted  revolution,  blazes 
and  murder,  and  thet's  'zakley  what  Biggy  here  means," 
said  Adams. 

Clensy's  heart  thumped  like  a  muffled  drum. 

"  Look  you  here,"  said  Biglow,  as  he  regarded  the 
young  Englishman  with  his  large  serious-looking  eyes. 
"  It's  coming  along  any  moment  now  ;  the  Cacaos  are 
only  awaiting  the  signal  to  blaze  this  town  to  the  ground 
and  shoot  every  one  who  happens  to  get  in  the  way. 
Savvy  ?  " 

The  expression  on  Biglow's  face  told  Clensy  that  he 
meant  what  he  said. 

"  Can  it  be  possible,  in  these  enlightened  times, 
too  ?  " 

"  It  can !  "  said  Biglow  quietly,  as  he  stared  at  our 
hero  for  a  moment  as  though  in  some  hesitation  ;  then 
he  leaned  forward  and  said  :  "  I've  been  doing  a  bit  of 
gun-running  for  both  sides,  the  legal  authorities  and 


SESTRINA  109 

the  rebels  too,  and  you've  been  seen  with  me,  and  that 
means  that  they  would  shoot  you*  at  sight  to  settle 
their  doubts — if  they  had  any  !  " 

"  Thank  you,  Mr.  Bartholomew  Biglow,"  said  Clensy. 

Then  the  big  man  looked  half  sorrowfully  at  Clensy 
and  said  : 

"  Perhaps  I  ought  to  have  warned  you  that  I  was 
dangerous  company.  Anyhow,  our  only  chance  of 
safety  is  getting  away  from  here  by  steamer  if  a  rising 
does  take  place." 

"  I'll  see  you  both  again  later,"  replied  Clensy,  and 
before  the  two  men  could  look  round  he  had  vanished. 

It  was  still  daylight  when  Clensy  arrived  back  at  his 
apartments.  He  had  made  up  his  mind  to  go  straight 
to  the  palace  and  warn  Sestrina  of  her  danger,  and,  if 
possible,  get  her  to  fly  with  him  from  the  palace  without 
further  delay.  Just  as  he  was  getting  ready  to  leave 
his  rooms  and  go  out,  his  landlady,  a  Creole  woman, 
tapped  at  his  door. 

"  Some  one  like  to  zee  yous,  Anglesman,"  she  said. 

Poking  his  head  out  of  the  doorway,  Clensy  found 
himself  face  to  face  with  Claircine.  The  old  negress 
looked  very  excited  as  she  handed  him  a  note.  In  a 
moment  Clensy  had  torn  the  envelope  open  and  read  : 

"  OH,  MONSIEUR  ROYAL, 

"  Do  not  attempt  to  come  to  the  'palace  to  see  me. 
They  have  placed  sentinels  in  the  grounds  as  wett  as 
at  the  gates.  Something  dreadful  is  going  to  happen, 
Fm  sure.  My  father  told  me  this  morning  that  should 
I  have  to  fly  from  here  I  must  get  on  one  of  the  Govern- 
ment steamers  and  go  to  the  South  American  States.  If 
I  do  that  I  may  never  see  you  again.  Oh,  'tis  dreadful, 
Monsieur  Royal.  Advise  me  as  to  what  is  best  for  me 
to  do.  Claircine  will  wait  about  till  she  sees  you  and 
can  slip  this  note  into  the  hands  that  I  love. 

"  In  haste, 

"  SESTRINA. 


110  SESTRINA 

"  P.S.  If  you  would  like  to  see  Pere  Chaco,  the  priest, 
he  lives  in  that  small  wooden  house  near  the  groves  of 
pomegranates,  where  we  stood  when  you  gave  me  you* 
photograph  and  I  gave  you  mine." 

"  Wait  a  minute,  Claircine,"  said  Clensy  as  soon  as 
he  had  read  Sestrina's  letter.  Then  he  rushed  back  into 
his  room  and  penned  the  following  reply  ; 

"  MY  DARLING  SESTRINA, 

"  I  write  in  haste.  I  would  risk  coming  to  the  palace, 
but  I  know  you  would  not  wish  it.  Your  father's  advice 
is  the  bes$.  By  all  means  get  on  one  of  the  steamers  if 
trouble  comes.  Do  not  fear  that  you  will  lose  sight  of 
me  or  I  of  you.  I  will  seek  the  steamers  and  find  out 
which  one  you  are  on.  Now,  Sestrina,  remember  that 
I  am  yours,  heart  and  soul.  And  remember,  dearest, 
that  in  the  event  of  my  losing  sight  of  you,  you  must 
make  your  way  to  Honolulu  and  wait  for  me  at  the 

T Hotel  in  B Street,  or  I  will  wait  for  you 

should  I  get  there  first.  Once  there  together,  we  can  do 
att  that  you  agreed  to  do  when  I  saw  you  last.  Should 
att  go  well,  I  will  come  to  the  palace  at  the  first  oppor- 
tunity and  climb  the  grape-vine.  Claircine  can  easily 
bring  me  a  note  from  you  to  say  when  the  sentinels  have 
been  removed.  Remember,  Sestrina,  that  I  love  you 
with  all  my  heart  and  soul. 

"Yours  ever  and  ever, 
,  "  ROYAL." 

Handing  Claircine  the  foregoing  note,  Clensy  bade  her 
hasten  back  to  her  mistress. 

"  Ah,  monsieur !  "  wailed  the  old  negress  as  she 
looked  into  his  eyes  in  a  sorrowful  way,  and  then 
added  :  "  Madamsele  weeps,  and  loves  you  well,  dot  she 
does."  The  next  moment  the  old  negress  had  dis- 
appeared under  the  flamboyant  trees  that  grew  in  front 
of  Clensy's  lodgings. 


SESTRINA  111 

That  same  night  Clensy  was  suddenly  awakened  by 
a  crash.  He  leapt  from  his  bed  and  hastened  out  on 
to  the  veranda.  Notwithstanding  all  that  he  had 
heard  about  the  insurgents,  he  was  surprised  to  hear 
the  sounds  of  heavy  cannonading  somewhere  away  in 
the  hills — the  Cacaos  and  Government  soldiery  had 
met !  The  streets  were  alive  with  frightened,  babbling 
negroes  and  mulattoes,  running  about  as  though  they 
were  demented.  Children  and  women  ran  in  and  out 
the  small  wooden  houses  wringing  their  hands  and 
wailing  in  a  weird,  dismal  manner.  As  Clensy  stared 
out  into  the  night  he  saw  a  great  blaze  of  reddish  light 
up  the  hills  in  the  direction  of  La  Coupe.  The  rebels 
were  firing  the  villages  along  the  slopes  and  in  the 
valleys  !  "  Good  God  !  "  was  all  that  Clensy  could  say 
to  express  his  consternation.  In  a  moment  he  was 
dressed  and  out  in  the  streets.  "  I'll  risk  it !  "  he 
muttered.  The  next  moment  he  was  hurrying  off  in 
the  direction  of  the  palace.  But  as  he  got  to  the  out- 
skirts of  the  town  he  found  that  he  was  too  late. 
Hundreds  of  Government  soldiers  were  already  en- 
trenched along  the  main  roads  outside  the  town.  They 
would  allow  none  to  pass.  Seeing  some  Haytians  hurry- 
ing along,  Clensy  asked  them  what  was  happening. 

"  Revolution  !  War  !  We  must  fly  or  be  killed  !  " 
they  cried. 

"  Is  the  palace  in  the  hands  of  the  Government  or 
the  rebels  ?  "  he  asked,  a  great  fear  clutching  at  his 
heart. 

"  In  the  hands  of  the  Government  and  the  rebels 
too,"  shouted  some  one. 

Then  Clensy  gathered  that  many  of  the  Government 
soldiers  who  had  been  brought  to  the  palace  had  gone 
over  to  the  side  of  the  Cacaos.  Seeing  that  he  could  do 
nothing,  that  he  was  utterly  helpless  to  help  Sestrina  or 
even  find  out  anything  about  her,  Clensy  took  to  his 
heels  and  made  his  way  to  the  small  wooden  house  on 
the  outskirts  of  the  town  where  Sestrina  had  told  him 


112  SESTRINA 

Pere  Chaco,  the  Catholic,  dwelt.  In  less  than  ten 
minutes  he  stood  in  front  of  the  small  wooden  building 
that  had  a  small  cross  on  top  of  it.  He  knocked  at  the 
door.  It  was  immediately  opened  by  a  grey-bearded, 
serious-looking  old  man.  The  face  before  Clensy  was 
expressive,  very  melancholy  looking,  the  eyes  deep  set 
and  clear,  the  brow  high  and  intellectual. 

"  Well,  my  son,  and  what  would  you  wish  of  me  ?  " 
"  I  am  a  friend  of  Sestrina's,  President  Gravelot's 
daughter.     What  can  be  done  about  her  ?  "  said  Clensy, 
immediately  going  into  the  matter. 
"  A  true  friend  ?  "  said  the  father. 
"  Yes,  her  life  is  all  to  me,"  said  Clensy. 
The  old  priest  scanned  him  steadily  with  his  deep-set, 
earnest  eyes,  and  then  said,  "  Um  !  "     Then  the  aged 
priest  told  Clensy  that  his  call  had  already  been  too 
prolonged,  for  he,  the  priest,  had  just  been  about  to 
go  off  and  visit  the  British  Consul  to  ask  about  Sestrina 
and  get  help  in  case  her  life  should  be  in  danger. 

"  Thank  God  for  that !  "  exclaimed  Clensy.  Then 
the  priest  laid  his  wrinkled  hand  on  Clensy's  shoulder, 
and  told  him  to  have  faith,  and  possibly  all  would  be 
well.  The  next  moment  Pere  Chaco  had  hurried  away, 
and  Clensy  was  hastening  back  to  the  town  to  see 
Biglow  and  Adams. 

"  Thank  heaven  you're  here  !  "  exclaimed  the  young 
Englishman  as  he  entered  Biglow's  lodgings  and  found 
him  standing  by  his  old  carpet  bag,  all  packed  ready 
for  immediate  removal.  "  Well,  it's  come  !  "  exclaimed 
Clensy. 

"  Yes,  and  Adams  and  I  and  you  had  better  be 
going  !  "  said  Biglow. 

"  I  can't  go.  I  must  hear  if  Sestrina's  safe  first.  I'd 
go  mad  if  anything  happened  to  her,"  said  Clensy,  as 
he  almost  lost  control  of  himself. 

"  Don't  worry  about  Sestrina,  bless  yer,  she's  on  board 
the  Catholol,  a  Government  steamer,  that's  outbound 
for  Vera  Cruz,"  said  Biglow. 


SESTRINA  113 

Clensy's  relief  at  hearing  this  information  may  be 
imagined. 

"  Sestrina  safe.  I'll  see  her  again  !  "  he  cried  out  as 
Adams  walked  in  and  said  he  wasn't  going  to  walk  any 
longer  about  a  place  where  "myderers"  kept  firing 
revolvers  and  strangling  people. 

"  You're  quite  sure  Sestrina's  safe  ?  f  said  Clensy  as 
he  looked  steadily  in  the  gun-runner's  eyes. 

"  Safe  as  houses,  and  her  old  man,  the  president,  had 
the  top  of  his  head  blown  off,  and  De  Cripsny's  got  his 
left  ear  blown  away." 

"  No  !  "  exclaimed  Clensy  in  a  horrified  voice. 

"  Well,  he's  Sestrina's  father  to  you,  but  /  don't  look 
upon  him  in  that  light,"  said  Biglow  when  he  noticed 
the  note  of  sorrow  in  Clensy's  voice  on  hearing  that  the 
president  had  been  shot.  "  He  won't  be  a  party  to 
killing  any  more  children  at  the  vaudoux  altars  in  the 
mountains,  will  he  ?  "  said  Biglow. 

"  No,  he  won't,"  replied  Clensy  in  a  very  quiet  voice. 

Then  Biglow  began  to  inform  our  hero  that  directly 
the  first  shots  had  been  fired  by  the  Government  scouts 
in  the  hills  behind  Port-au-Prince,  the  officials  of  the 
British  and  French  consulates  had  immediately  set  out 
for  the  presidential  palace  to  warn  the  president  and 
take  charge  of  Sestrina.  It  appeared  that  when  they 
arrived  at  the  palace  the  president,  who  had  foolishly 
ventured  out  to  plead  to  the  soldiers  who  had  shown 
signs  of  going  over  to  the  insurgents,  had  been  shot  by 
one  in  the  crowd. 

Sestrina,  who  still  remained  ignorant  of  her  father's 
death,  had  been  immediately  disguised  in  a  servant's 
robe,  and  hurried  out  of  the  palace  by  a  back  entrance. 
She  had  then  been  at  once  escorted  down  to  Cap  Hatien, 
and  then  taken  in  a  boat  out  to  the  steamer  Catholot 
which  lay  in  the  middle  of  the  harbour. 

"  Must  get  out  to  the  Catholot,  whatever  happens," 
said  Clensy.  Biglow  could  hear  his  comrade's  eager- 
ness trembling  in  his  voice.  "  I've  got  eight  pounds, 
H 


114  SESTRINA 

and  I'll  give  you  the  lot  if  you  can  get  me  out  to  the 
Catholot"  said  Clensy. 

"  Keep  yer  money,  lad.  It's  my  fault  that  you're  in 
this  scrape,  and  I've  got  enough  money  to  get  you  out 
of  the  fix  which  I've  got  you  in,"  said  Biglow,  as  he 
gripped  Clensy's  hand,  and  promised  to  do  all  he  could 
to  bring  Clensy  and  Sestrina  together  again,  and  get 
them  safely  away  from  Hayti. 

That  same  day  Biglow  kept  his  word,  for  he  managed 
to  hire  a  boat  and  take  Clensy  out  to  the  Catholot  him- 
self. 

The  Catholot  was  a  steamer  of  about  two  thousand 
tons. 

As  Biglow  rowed  alongside,  the  funnel  was  smoking 
heavily. 

"  She's  getting  up  steam,  ready  to  sail  at  a  moment's 
notice,"  said  Clensy,  his  heart  heavy  to  think  that 
Sestrina  might  leave  Hayti  without  him.  "  I'm  going 
to  sail  with  her,  if  it  can  possibly  be  done,"  was  his 
determined  thought  as  he  arrived  on  the  Catholofs 
deck. 

One  of  the  sailors,  urged  by  a  liberal  tip  from  Clensy, 
led  them  down  the  steamer's  alley- way  that  led  aft,  and, 
after  making  several  inquiries,  pointed  out  Sestrina's 
cabin. 

Directly  Sestrina  saw  Clensy's  face  looking  over  the 
shoulders  of  the  other  passengers,  she  rushed  forward 
and  threw  her  arms  around  him.  The  girl  nearly  broke 
down  at  that  meeting 

Biglow  stood  aside,  a  kind  look  in  his  serious  eyes  as 
he  gazed  on  the  scene,  affected  by  the  refugee  girl's 
grief. 

"  You  will  come  with  me,  won't  you  ?  "  she  reiterated, 
when  they  told  her  not  to  fear,  that  they  would  keep  in 
touch  with  her.  y 

"  If  it  can  possibly  be  managed,  I'm  coming  on  this 
steamer  as  a  passenger,"  said  Clensy,  when  Sestrina, 
Biglow  and  he  stood  in  a  quiet  spot  by  the  engine  room, 


SESTRINA  115 

out  of  earshot  of  the  excited  refugees  who  crowded  the 
deck  and  cabins. 

For  a  long  time  Clensy  and  Sestrina  stood  whispering 
together.  Clensy  had  never  realised  till  that  moment 
what  the  girl's  life  meant  to  him. 

"  I  reckon  we'd  better  be  making  a  move  and  try  and 
see  the  skipper,"  said  Biglow,  who  had  begun  to  get 
impatient,  for  he  saw  that  the  lovers  were  likely  to 
stand  there  making  plans  and  whispering  till  it  was  too 
late. 

Clensy  tore  himself  away  from  the  girl. 

Sestrina's  depressed  spirits  had  wonderfully  revived 
when  Clensy  and  Biglow  left  her  to  seek  the  Gatholofs 
skipper,  and  to  try  and  negotiate  for  berths  as  deck 
passengers. 

When  Clensy  and  Biglow  at  last  found  the  skipper, 
and  asked  for  passages,  they  were  sadly  disappointed 
at  finding  that  the  authorities  at  Port-au-Prince  had 
given  orders  that  no  more  passengers  were  to  be  taken 
without  permits  being  produced.  Why  such  an  order 
should  have  been  given  out  was  a  mystery.  However, 
the  skipper  only  shook  his  head  to  all  Biglow's  per- 
suasions. "  I've  had  strict  orders  from  the  officials, 
and  not  another  soul  comes  aboard.  I  should  probably 
get^shot  were  I  to  take  you  fellows  :  how  do  I  know  who 
you  are  ?  "  So  spake  the  skipper.  And  Biglow,  after 
assuring  the  skipper  that  he  wouldn't  like  to  see  him 
shot  or  mutilated  in  any  way  through  swerving  from 
his  duty,  told  Clensy  to  follow  him. 

"  Never  mind  the  girl  now,  she's  all  right ;  I'll  manage 
everything." 

"  Thank  you,"  exclaimed  Clensy,  who  felt  humbled 
through  the  uncertainty  of  things,  and  his  fear  of  losing 
Sestrina. 

In  a  few  moments  they  had  reached  the  gangway. 

"  Make  haste,  no  time  to  lose,"  said  Biglow,  as 
he  walked  down  the  gangway  and  re-entered  their 
boat. 


116  SESTRINA 

"  He's  got  some  good  scheme  up  his  sleeve,"  thought 
Clensy,  as  he  obsequiously  followed  his  lusty  comrade. 

Immediately  they  had  re-embarked  and  had  rowed 
the  boat  out  of  earshot,  Biglow  said,  "  We'll  stow  away 
on  her  to-night !  see  ?  " 

Clensy,  at  hearing  the  gun-runner  say  that,  was  con- 
siderably cheered  up.  He  had  already  told  Sestrina 
not  to  despair.  He  had  said,  "  Don't  you  worry, 
dearest,  I'll  follow  on  by  another  steamer  if  I  cannot 
get  on  this  boat."  Then  he  had  taken  Sestrina  aside, 
and  had  told  her  to  make  her  way  to  Honolulu  just  as 
they  had  planned.  "  Go  straight  to  this  address,"  he 
had  said,  as  he  wrote  down  fullest  particulars.  "  I'll 
come  to  Honolulu  and  wait  there  till  you  come  if  you 
are  delayed  in  any  way,  trust  me,  dear."  And,  as  he 
spoke,  Sestrina  had  looked  into  his  eyes  and  knew  that 
he  meant  what  he  said. 

Before  Clensy  left  the  Catholot  he  told  Sestrina  to 
expect  to  see  him  on  board  again  that  same  night. 

The  Catholot  was  supposed  to  sail  next  morning,  so 
Clensy  naturally  presumed  that  he  could,  at  any  rate, 
row  out  to  her  and  see  Sestrina  once  more  before  she 
sailed. 

That  same  night,  Biglow,  Clensy  and  Adams  packed 
their  few  goods  and  got  all  ready  to  clear  out  of  Hayti. 

They  had  decided  to  take  a  boat  from  L and  row 

out  to  the  Catholot  after  dark,  get  on  board  by  some 
excuse  and  then  stow  away. 

That  night,  without  delay,  they  hired  the  boat. 

"  If  one  can  stow  away  three  can,  eh,  lad  ? "  said 
Biglow,  as  they  pulled  at  the  oars  and  got  round  by  the 
bend  of  the  harbour  near  S 

In  a  few  moments  they  had  turned  the  point  where 
they  got  a  good  view  of  the  harbour. 

"  Done  !  She's  sailed !  "  said  Biglow  in  a  mighty 
voice. 

He  nearly  upset  the  boat  as  he  stood  up  and  stared 
,over  the  waters  of  the  starlit  harbour. 


SESTRINA  117 

It  was  true  enougha  the  Catholot  had  sailed.  Sestrina 
had  gone  from  Hayti ! 

"  We'll  all  be  mydered,  sure !  "  wailed  Adams,  as  he 
leaned  back  on  his  portmanteau — an  old  red  handker- 
chief— and  groaned. 

"  It's  the  fear  of  the  blockade  that  made  her  sail 
to-day  instead  of  to-morrow.  Hear  that  ?  "  said  Biglow. 

And  as  the  three  of  them  listened  they  could  distinctly 
hear  the  distant  booms  of  the  guns  and  furious  cannonade. 
It  was  evident  that  the  insurgents  were  already  besieging 
Cap  Hatien,  as  in  the  south  the  Government  soldiers 
were  attacking  Jacmel,  Jereme  and  Les  Cayes. 

Biglow  swore  terrifically  when  he  realised  their 
position.  Clensy  and  Adams  placed  themselves  un- 
reservedly in  his  hands.  They  knew  that  if  there  was 
a  way  of  getting  out  of  Hayti,  Biglow  would  find  that 
way.  And  so  he  did !  for,  in  less  than  twenty-four 
hours  after  finding  that  the  Catholot  had  sailed,  Biglow, 
Adams  and  Clensy  found  themselves  on  board  a  Govern- 
ment steamer  outbound  for  South  America.  The 
reason  they  did  get  away  so  easily,  was  because  Biglow, 
through  his  gun-running  exploits,  was  well  in  with  the 
American  Consul.  He  knew  so  much  about  the  financial 
side  of  the  gun-running  business,  that  in  the  event  of 
the  Government  overthrowing  the  insurgents  and  still 
retaining  power,  it  would  turn  out  more  convenient  for 
the  officials  to  get  a  man  like  Biglow  as  far  away  from 
Hayti  as  possible. 

"  This  is  hell  enough,  without  being  worried  out  of 
my  mind  like  this,"  muttered  Clensy  as  he  stood  by  the 
bulwark  side  of  the  S.S.  Prince,  staring  out  to  sea. 
The  fact  is,  there  was  a  terrible  crush  on  the  steamer 
ffhich  he  and  Biglow  found  themselves  aboard.  There 
flrere  about  two  hundred  refugees  on  board,  mostly  high- 
class  Haytians  who  could  afford  to  seek  safety  from  the 
terrors  of  their  war-stricken  province.  The  weathei 
vras  terrifically  hot,  too,  and  Clensy  had  to  sleep  in  a 
ituffy  cabin  with  ten  refugees.  Consequently,  after  the 


118  SESTRINA 

first  night  of  unspeakable  misery,  lie  slept  on  deck.  His 
whole  thoughts  were  centred  on  Sestrina. 

"  She'll  know  it  wasn't  my  fault,"  he  mused,  as  he 
thought  of  the  girl's  disappointment  when  the  Catholot 
sailed  before  her  time,  thus  making  him  unable  to  keep 
his  promise  to  see  her  again. 

"  Don't  you  worry,  lad,"  said  Biglow,  who  had  sud- 
denly walked  up  to  Clensy's  side.  "  We'll  find  the 
girl!" 

"  But  we  don't  really  know  where  she's  gone  to," 
said  Clensy,  as  he  realised  how  the  Government  steamers 
sailed  away  from  Hayti  and  gave  a  false  report  as  to  the 
port  they  were  really  bound  for. 

"  I'm  sorry,  lad,  to  have  placed  you  in  this  pickle ; 
it's  all  my  doings,"  said  Biglow,  as  he  stood  by  Clensy's 
side  and  stared  across  the  starlit  tropic  seas.  There 
was  a  tender,  wistful  note  in  the  big  man's  voice  as  he 
spoke  to  Clensy. 

"  You  couldn't  help  it.  Sestrina  would  have  had 
to  fly  from  the  palace  if  you  had  been  ten  thousand 
miles  from  Hayti  when  the  revolution  broke  out,"  said 
Clensy  in  a  mournful  voice. 

"  Perhaps  you're  right,  lad ;  anyway,  I'll  stick  to  you." 

"  Thank  you,"  replied  Clensy.  He  wanted  a  genuine 
comrade.  Adams  wasn't  worth  his  salt.  He  had  got 
mixed  up  with  the  crew  of  the  steamer.  In  fact,  he  had 
got  so  drunk  and  uninteresting  that  Biglow  and  Clensy 
decided  to  have  no  more  to  do  with  him  :  and  they,  and 
the  hidden  voice  behind  these  pages,  were  more  than 
thankful  to  see  the  old  reprobate  Adams  go  out  of  the 
story  altogether. 

"  As  sure  as  my  name's  Samuel  Bilbao,  you'll  see  the 
girl  again,  lad.  I'm  one  who  believes  in  everything 
that  no  one  else  believes  in,"  said  Biglow  suddenly. 

"  Samuel  Bilbao !  Is  that  your  real  name  ?  "  said 
Clensy  in  an  astonished  voice. 

The  fact  is,  that  Samuel  Bilbao  was  notorious  from 
Fiji  to  Terra  del  Fuego  as  one  of  the  last  of  the  wild, 


SESTRINA  119 

flamboyant  traders  who  had  hunted  the  blackbirders 
down  in  the  South  Seas  slaving  days  of  ten  years  before. 
Yes,  it  was  Samuel  Bilbao  who  stood  beside  Clensy ; 
Bilbao  who  ran  the  blockade  in  the  Haytian  revolution 
of  three  years  before  ;  Bilbao  who  led  the  Marquesans 
in,  the  great  tribal  battle  at  Taiohae ;  Bilbao  who  helped 
the  Tahitian  chiefs  when  they  fought  the  French  in  18 — , 
and  smashed  a  well-equipped  garrison  to  smithereens. 
Yes,  such  things  had  been  accomplished  by  that  worthy 
in  the  splendour  of  his  prime. 

When  Clensy  discovered  that  he  was  on  the  high  seas 
with  Samuel  Bilbao  as  his  right  hand,  he  blessed  the 
fates.  "  Things  could  be  worse,"  he  thought. 

Samuel  Bilbao,  to  give  him  his  proper  name,  was  the 
life  of  the  Prince.  The  Haytian  ladies  on  board  tried 
hard  to  blush  as  he  sang  his  rollicking  songs,  extemporis- 
ing words  in  their  own  language  as  his  versatile  brain 
took  in  the  degrees  of  temperament  and  the  moral 
lassitude  of  the  female  company  he  sang  to.  He  infused 
life  and  laughter  into  the  hearts  of  the  most  woebegone 
refugees  as  he  danced  and  made  the  Prince's  deck  like 
a  moonlit  ball-room  as  they  steamed  along  under  the 
stars.  Yes,  Samuel  Bilbao  was  the  best  comrade  Clensy 
could  have  found  under  the  circumstances. 

It  seemed  like  the  memory  of  some  feverish  dream 
when  Clensy,  one  month  after  flying  from  Hayti,  sat  in 

the  Rio  Grande  cafe  at  M and  thought  of  all  that 

he  and  Bilbao  had  gone  through  in  their  search  for 
Sestrina.  "  And  all  for  nothing  !  Sestrina  might  have 
been  swallowed  up  by  an  earthquake  for  all  we've  heard 
to  the  contrary,"  Clensy  muttered,  as  he  looked  through 
the  open  window  on  to  the  palm  groves  that  faced  the 
veranda.  "  Thank  heaven  I've  got  enough  money  to 
take  the  next  boat  that  sails  for  Honolulu,"  he  thought, 
as  he  counted  out  his  notes  and  gold.  He  had  only  the 
day  before  received  a  generous  remittance  from  England 
by  cable.  And,  as  he  reflected  and  mused  on,  he  mur- 
mured ;  "  There's  still  a  good  chance  that  we've  missed 


120  SESTRINA 

her ;  there's  severs.!  ways  of  getting  to  Hawaii.  She 
might  have  got  on  a  schooner  that  sailed  from  the  lower 
CaHfornian  seaboard  harbours."  And  as  Clensy  mused 
on  and  thought  over  all  the  possibilities!,  he  became  very 
hopeful. 

Samuel  Bilbao  had  kept  his  promise,  had  not  deserted 
our  hero,  for  that  romantic  worthy  was  just  up  the 
grove  roaring  forth  a  rollicking  sea  chanty  in  the  De  La 
Plaza  grog-saloon.  Even  as  Clensy  listened  he  could 
hear  the  loud  clapping  and  stumping  and  guttural  cries 
of  the  delighted  Mexicans  and  Spanish  hidalgos.  Bilbao 
had  managed  to  cheer  Clensy  up  many  times  during  his 
fits  of  depression.  For  Royal  Clensy  had  become  a 
different  man  since  he  had  left  Hayti.  His  love  for 
Sestrina  and  the  uncertainty  of  the  girl's  fate  had 
strangely  humbled  him,  had  made  him  look  out  on  life 
with  wiser  and  sadder  eyes.  Just  as  drink  and 
debauchery  changes  a  man  and  debases  his  character, 
Clensy's  mind  had  been  elevated  and  made  sym- 
pathetic and  thoughtful  through  sorrow. 

When  Clensy  at  last  arrived  at  Honolulu  and  still  no 
news  of  Sestrina,  it  wanted  all  the  hilarity  and  flam- 
boyant song  of  Bilbao's  cheerful  personality  to  bring 
a  ghost  of  a  smile  to  our  hero's  lips.  Not  once  did  the 
young  Englishman's  faith  in  Sestrina  waver.  He  was 
convinced  that  if  Sestrina  never  turned  up  at  Honolulu 
it  was  because  she  was  either  dead  or  very  ill.  As  the 
weeks  passed  his  hopes  of  seeing  Sestrina  again  faded, 
but  his  desire  for  her  presence  increased.  His  imagina- 
tion began  to  clothe  his  memory  of  her  in  all  the  beauty 
and  the  mystery  which  men  of  his  temperament  imagine 
a  good  woman  possesses.  His  romantic  passion  for  the 
girl  transmuted  his  memory  of  her  till  her  eyes  sparkled 
as  far-off  stars  shining  on  the  horizon  of  his  imagination. 
She  became  the  unattainable,  the  mystery  and  spiritual 
wonder  of  the  great  undiscovered  lands  that  must  ever 
lie  beyond  the  skylines  of  mortal  dreams,  filling  human 
hearts  with  passionate  longing  and  yearning  for  far-ofi 


SESTRINA  121 

divine  things.  All  that  was  beautiful  in  sounds  lingered  in 
Clensy's  memory  of  Sestrina's  voice  ;  her  songs  resolved 
into  a  dream,  and  became  the  unheard  music  of  his  own 
soul,  till  he  seemed  to  hear  the  dim  murmurings  of  the 
shells  on  the  shores  of  the  ocean  that  divides  romance 
from  reality.  The  sorrow  and  uncertainty  of  their 
parting  became  his  calvary  of  anguish  .and  the  heart- 
crying  creed  which  nourished  a  dim  yearning. hope  of 
some  future.  He  vaguely  realised  that,  though  he 
might  never  see  Sestrina  again,  she  had  brought  him 
boundless  wealth  ;  that  he  could  kneel  at  the  altar  of 
his  great  faith  in  her  love  and  get  as  near  the  realisation 
of  his  best  ideals  as  man  can  get  when  he  imagines  the 
world  holds  things  that  will  correspond  with  his  soul's 
conceptions  of  the  beautiful.  He  knew  well  enough 
that  his  mind  had  got  into  that  morbid  state  which 
worldly  men  term  foolish  and  sentimental.  But  the 
happiness  that  his  sentiment  brought  him  and  his  know- 
ledge of  the  little  happiness  he  would  get  from  such 
dreams  as  worldly  men  indulged  in,  inspired  him  with 
that  wisdom  which  enables  men  to  reign  as  king  over 
their  imagination. 

Through  reading  the  musty  volumes  which  he  dis- 
covered in  his  apartments  in  Honolulu,  as  he  waited 
through  weary  months  for  Sestrina,  he  began  to  get 
quite  philosophical.  His  outlook  on  life  became  cynical, 
yet  was  softened  with  the  old  sympathy  of  his  earlier 
and  happier  days.  "  I  was  a  fool  to  ever  fall  in  love 
and  get  unhappy  like  this.  I  thought  I  was  so  wise, 
too !  "  The  wisest  men  who  ever  lived  are  only  little 
children  crying  in  the  dark  for  light  as  they  throw 
pebbles  into  their  little  ponds  of  dreams  and  imagine 
they  are  sounding  the  depths  of  infinity,  of  human 
nature  and  the  mystery  of  life  and  death.  Men  know 
nothing  !  The  present  is  a  chimera,  the  past  a  remem- 
brance of  it,  and  the  dim  future  the  uncertainty  that  is  | 
the  soul  of  religion.  Why,  even  that  bedraggled  old 
cockatoo  on  the  palm  outside  my  window  might  easily 


122  SESTRINA 

be  some  reincarnation  of  a  dead  disillusioned  philo- 
sopher. ->  Its  dismal  discordant  cry  sounds  as  though 
it  curses  the  memory  of  some  far-off  day  when  its  mad 
intellect  soared  above  the  yearnings  of  its  digestive 
apparatus,  when  it  fell  into  the  abyss  of  its  own  thoughts 
and  broke  the  backs  of  its  faiths  one  by  one. 

As  Clensy  soliloquised  over  his  mad  metaphysics,  he 
saw  a  tawny  Hawaiian  lift  a  gun  to  his  shoulder,  and 
prepared  to  aim  at  the  very  bird  which  had  inspired 
him  with  such  mad  ideas.  "  Don't  shoot,  for  heaven's 
sake,"  he  shouted,  as  he  leaned  out  of  the  window  and 
threw  the  Hawaiian  a  coin.  "  Thank  God  I've  saved 
it,"  he  muttered,  as  the  aged,  dilapidated  cockatoo 
looked  sideways  from  its  leafy  perch,  and  muttered  its 
deepest  gratitude  ere  it  took  its  flight.  "  Perhaps  it's 
some  dismal  thought  of  Sestrina's  reincarnated,  now  a 
cockatoo,  hovering  by  my  window  to  let  me  know  the 
truth  why  she  cannot  come  ?  Ah,  it's  madness  to 
encourage  such  fancies.  Who  would  believe  me  were 
I  to  tell  how  I  remember  the  harvest  girls  singing  as  they 
sat  with  sickle  in  hand  by  their  golden  sheaves  in  the 
cornfields  of  ancient  Assyria  ?  Why  did  the  scent 
from  the  big  dish  of  overripe  yellow  oranges  in  the 
drawing-room  of  my  home  in  England  send  my  thoughts 
adrift,  make  me  go  to  sea — in  search  of  what  ?  They 
said  I  was  a  fool — had  romantic  notions.  What  are 
romantic  notions  ?  And  why  do  millions  of  sensible 
and  great-minded  men  and  women  kneel  in  true  devotion 
before  the  shadowy  altar  of  that  Heaven  which  no 
living  mortal  since  the  birth  of  Time  ever  saw  except  in 
dreams."  > 

Crash !  Some  one  had  banged  at  Clensy's  door  and 
had  swept  his  peculiar  imaginings  and  metaphysical 
speculations  to  the  winds,  which  are  the  only  elements 
that  know  how  to  deal  with  such  wild  fancies. 

The  next  moment  Samuel  Bilbao's  huge  personality 
and  figure  stood  in  our  hero's  apartments. 

"  Well,  how  are  things  going  along  ?  "  said  Clensy, 


SESTRINA  123 

as  he  swiftly  released  his  hand  from  the  mighty  grip  of 
his  comrade's  painful  clasp. 

Then  Bilbao  sat  down  and  informed  Clensy  that 
trouble  was  brewing  in  one  of  the  South  American 
republics,  and  that  he  was  wanted.  "  It's  something 
better  than  gun-running  ;  there's  a  wealthy  president's 
daughter  waiting  to  be  abducted,  whipped  ofl  into 
another  state  against  her  will,  so  that  she  can  marry 
the  rival  president's  only  begotten  son.  There's  plenty 
of  money  in  the  game,  too."  So  spake  our  worthy 
friend  Samuel  Bilbao,  giving  out  hints  but  leaving 
Clensy's  brain  in  the  usual  maze  as  to  what  the  big  man 
had  on  his  mind. 

"  Do  you  mean  that  you  are  leaving  Honolulu  ?  " 
said  Clensy. 

"  Yes,  lad,  keep  your  heart  up,  I  must  go,"  said 
Bilbao.  Nor  was  he  leaving  Clensy  unduly,  for  he  had 
stopped  religiously  with  our  hero  in  Honolulu  for  eight 
months,  and  eight  months  in  a  place  like  Honolulu  was 
dead  against  the  grain  of  a  man  like  Samuel  Bilbao. 

"  Eight  months  waiting  in  this  hole  of  a  place !  " 
sighed  Clensy.  "  I  wish  to  heaven  I'd  never  seen 
Port-au-Prince." 

"  Cheer  up,  lad,  as  sure  as  God  made  little  apples  you'll 
see  the  girl  again  some  day,"  said  Bilbao.  "  If  a  girl 
with  canny  eyes  like  that  Sestrina's  got  loves  a  fellow 
she'll  find  some  means  of  letting  him  know  what's  become 
of  her,  I  know  !  " 

"  But  supposing  she  is  dead,"  said  Clensy  in  a  pathetic, 
mournful  voice. 

"  Being  dead  makes  no  difference,  lad,  the  dead  are 
the  only  folk  who  are  living  as  they  walk  before  us," 
said  Bilbao,  in  a  soft,  earnest,  almost  religious  voice  ! 

"  Well,  you  of  all  men  on  earth  !  "  thought  Clensy,  as 
he  stared  at  the  gun-runner's  flushed  face  and  the  large, 
grey,  expressive  eyes. 

And  as  Samuel  Bilbao  spoke  on,  his  voice  became  as 
tender  as  a  girl's,  a  troubled  something  wrinkling  his 


124  SESTRINA 

fine  brow.  Then  he  laid  his  hand  on  Clensy's  shoulder, 
and  said :  "  Lad,  the  girl  I  loved  has  been  dead  fifteen 
years,  and  it  was  only  the  other  night  she  stood  beside 
me.  '  Don't  drink  that,'  she  said,  as  she  knocked  the 
goblet  full  of  ruin  from  my  hand,  smashing  it  to  atoms 
at  my  feet !  And  all  the  traders  and  shellbacks  in  the 
grog-shanty  at  Murrumbee  Creek  stared  like  blasted 
lunatics  as  I  took  her  hand  and  laid  my  head  on  her 
shoulders  and  then  looked  into  the  eyes — of  nothing ! 
So  the  blind  fools  said !  " 

As  Bilbao  ceased,  Clensy  gazed  in  wonder  on  the 
expressive  face  before  him.  He  hardly  recognised  the 
great  blustering,  boisterous  Samuel  Bilbao  in  the  face 
of  that  superstitious,  yet  intellectual  looking  sunburnt 
man  of  the  seas. 

"  Yes,  lad,  dead  women  don't  forget,"  said  Bilbao 
softly,  as  he  sat  there  in  Royal  Clensy's  room  in  Hono- 
lulu, and  the  stars  crept  over  the  blue  skies  to  the  east 
of  Mount  Pepe. 

Years  afterwards  every  word  Bilbao  had  uttered  that 
night  came  back  and  lingered  in  Clensy's  memory, 
coming  like  echoes  from  the  songs  of  the  long  dead 
nightingales  that  had  once  sung  in  the  mahogany  forests 
by  the  presidential  palace  in  Hayti  when  he  was  a  boy. 


PART  n 

CHAPTER  I 

WHEN  Sestrina,  on  the  morning  after  the 
Catholot  had  sailed  from  Port-au-Prince, 
awoke  and  found  that  she  was  far  out  at  sea,  she  felt 
greatly  depressed  She  could  hardly  believe  her  own 
ears  when  she  heard  the  muffled  thumping  of  the 
steamer's  screw  and  the  pounding  of  the  engine's 
pistons.  She  immediately  ran  from  her  cabin  and 
sought  the  skipper.  He  was  a  Yankee,  and  a  kind- 
hearted  man. 

"  Oh,  I  am  so  unhappy,  I  expected  some  one  to  come 
and  see  me  last  night  or  to-day  ;  I  quite  understood  that 
your  ship  was  not  leaving  Port-au-Prince  till  to-night." 

"  Did  you,  missy  ?  "  replied  the  skipper  as  he  looked 
into  Sestrina's  tearful  eyes  and  explained  to  her  that 
the  Catholot  had  sailed  before  her  time  so  that  they 
might  not  be  locked  in  the  harbour  through  the  block- 
ade, for  months.  "  It's  not  my  fault,  missy,"  he  added, 
as  he  gazed  in  a  sympathetic  way  at  the  distressed  girl. 

"  Am  I  alone  on  board  ?  Where's  my  father  and 
Claircine  ?  " 

"  I  guess  there's  no  Pa  or  Claircine  on  board  here  with 
you,"  replied  the  skipper. 

When  Sestrina  discovered  that  she  was  quite  alone 
on  board  the  Catholot  her  distress  was  deep  indeed. 
But  hope  ever  reigns  in  youthful  hearts,  and  so  Sestrina 
calmed  herself  by  taking  Clensy's  last  two  letters  from 
the  folds  of  her  bodice  and  reading  them  over  and  over 
again.  She  felt  quite  certain  that  Clensy  would  hasten 
to  follow  her,  and  at  once  made  up  her  mind  to  get  to 

125 


126  SESTRINA 

Honolulu  as  swiftly  as  possible.  Then  she  clasped  hei 
hands  across  the  hidden  crucifix  in  the  folds  of  hei 
bodice,  and  thanked  God  that  Royal  Clensy  had  been 
thoughtful  enough  to  make  plans  to  meet  the  strait  in 
which  she  found  herself.  Then  she  began  to  wonder  if 
Clensy  would  be  able  to  get  safely  away  from  Hayti. 

In  her  mind  she  could  still  hear  the  furious  cannonade 
in  the  hills  round  Port-au-Prince  and  see  the  entrenched 
soldiers  round  the  palace.  And,  as  she  thought  on,  the 
terror  and  horror  of  it  all  became  intensified ;  her 
imagination  began  to  picture  all  kinds  of  dire  disasters. 

"  He  might  be  killed.  Oh,  Royal !  "  she  murmured, 
and  then  she  stole  into  her  cabin  again  and  wept. 

Two  of  the  saloon  passengers,  an  elderly  American 
and  his  wife,  took  compassion  on  Sestrina  when  they 
saw  her  grief,  and  did  their  best  to  cheer  her  up.  Their 
interest  in  her  deepened  when  they  discovered  that  she 
was  the  daughter  of  the  late  President  Gravelot  of  the 
Black  Republic  at  Hayti.  The  American  had  belonged 
to  the  U.S.A.  Consulate  at  Port-au-Prince,  and  had 
heard  that  President  Gravelot  had  been  shot ;  but  he 
did  not  tell  Sestrina  about  the  disaster  which  had 
befallen  her  father.  Sestrina  became  much  happier 
when  the  American  and  his  wife  invited  her  into  their 
cabin  and  promised  to  do  their  best  to  place  her  in  good 
hands  till  such  time  as  she  could  return  to  Hayti. 

"  The  revolution  won't  last  for  ever,  you,  know,"  said 
the  American.  But  Sestrina  soon  let  her  new  found 
friends  know  that  she  had  no  desire  to  return  to  Port- 
au-Prince  again. 

"  Have  you  relations  in  Hawaii,  mademoiselle  ?  " 
queried  the  American,  when  Sestrina  once  more  em- 
phatically informed  that  gentleman  and  his  wife  that 
she  wished  to  get  to  Honolulu  with  all  speed. 

"  Yes,  it  is  in  Honolulu  where  I  shall  meet  my  best 
friends." 

It  is  almost  needless  to  point  that  the  pluralty  of 
Sestrina'a  "  best  friends  "  in  Honolulu  were  comprised 


SESTRINA  127 

In  the  sole  personality  of  Eoyal  Clensy,  who  she  ex- 
pected to  meet  there. 

When  the  American  informed  Sestrina  that  the 
Catholot  was  bound  for  Vera  Cruz,  in  the  Gulf  of  Mexico, 
and  it  was  a  fairly  easy  journey  to  the  Pacific  coast 
where  she  could  get  a  ship  that  sailed  for  Hawaii,  she 
was  delighted.  She  went  straight  into  her  cabin  and, 
falling  on  her  knees,  kissed  the  crucifix,  and  felt  that 
God  had  listened  to  her  heartfelt  prayers  at  last.  The 
outlook  began  to  look  quite  rose-tinted  to  her  sanguine 
eyes.  She  had  a  thousand  dollars  in  her  possession, 
which  her  father  had  thoughtfully  provided  her  with. 
For,  like  a  good  many  sinners  in  this  world,  President 
Gravelot  had  a  better  side  to  his  nature,  a  side  which 
was  revealed  when  calamity  came  his  way  to  remind 
him  that  the  world  was  made  for  sweetness  and  not  for 
the  gratification  of  the  passions  alone. 

So  did  Sestrina  find  friends  when  she  became  a 
refugee  and  fled  from  Hayti  with  only  Royal  Clensy's 
memory  and  his  love  letters  to  comfort  her. 

When  the  Catholot  arrived  at  Vera  Cruz,  the  American 
and  his  wife  went  ashore  with  her  and  placed  her  under 
the  care  of  the  U.S.A.  Consul  at  Plaza  Mexo.  This 
estimable  gentleman  made  himself  very  busy  on  Ses- 
trina's  behalf.  He  eventually  advised  her  to  leave 
Vera  Cruz  and  go  to  the  United  States. 

"  You  will  be  in  direct  communication  with  Hayti 
and  will  know  exactly  when  to  return,  for  the  war  may 
be  over  soon,  or  even  now,"  he  said. 

As  can  be  imagined,  Sestrina  listened  respectfully  to 
the  advice  tendered  on  her  behalf,  but  was  still  deter- 
mined to  follow  the  course  of  her  prearranged  plans, 
which  agreed  with  all  her  hopes  and  sole  ambition  in 
life. 

And  so,  about  one  week  after  Sestrina  had  arrived 
at  Vera  Cruz,  the  U.S.A.  Consul  called  at  the  hotel 
where  Sestrina  was  staying,  and  was  somewhat  sur- 
prised to  find  that  she  had  gone,  had  vanished,  leaving 


128  SESTRINA 

no  trace  whatever  behind  her !  The  fact  is,  that 
Sestrina  had  made  inquiries,  and  had  found  out  that 
by  getting  to  Acapulco  or  Yucata,  on  the  Pacific  coast, 
she  could  get  a  passage  to  Honolulu  on  one  of  the  many 
schooners  that  sailed  for  the  South  Sea  Islands  for 
cargoes  of  copra,  pearls,  etc. 

It  is  a  trite  but  true  saying  that  "  Man  proposes  and 
God  disposes,"  and  equally  true  is  it  that  "  Coming 
events  do  not  always  cast  their  shadows  before."  No 
prophetic  hint  of  all  the  sorrow  that  lay  before  Ses- 
trina's  sad  path  in  the  new  world  which  she  was  entering, 
came  to  disturb  her  dreams  as  the  winds  stirred  the 
palms  just  opposite  her  window  at  her  lodgings  at 
Yucata.  She  had  only  arrived  at  the  ancient  seaport 
town  the  day  before  and  so  was  still  feeling  the  fatigue 
of  the  long  journey  she  had  undertaken  after  giving 
the  U.S.  Consul  at  Vera  Cruz  the  slip. 

So  often  had  the  passionate,  impulsive  Haytian  girl 
thought  of  Clensy,  so  often  had  her  mind  dwelt  in  the 
imaginary  happiness  of  dreams  that  corresponded  with 
all  that  her  sanguine  heart  anticipated  would  happen 
when  she  met  Clensy  again,  that  her  whole  soul  was 
centred  on  one  burning  ambition — the  swiftest  way  to 
get  to  Honolulu. 

She  had  been  greatly  upset  when  she  first  arrived  at 
Yucata,  for,  when  she  tendered  some  of  her  notes  as 
payment  for  her  apartments,  the  tawny  half-caste 
Spaniard,  her  landlord,  informed  her  that  half  of  her 
money  was  worthless  paper,  through  the  overthrow  of 
the  Haytian  Government  that  issued  it.  However,  she 
had  a  good  sum  of  legitimate  cash  in  hand  and  was 
greatly  relieved  to  find  that  for  about  forty  dollars  she 
could  get  a  passage  to  Honolulu,  on  the  Belle  Isle,  a 
rakish-looking  schooner  that  was  due  to  sail  for  Hawaii 
in  a  day  or  two. 

Though  her  Spanish  landlord  strongly  advised  her  to 
wait  till  one  of  the  larger  steamers  was  leaving  with 
mails  for  Honolulu,  she  would  not  wait.  Her  unthinking 


SESTRINA  129 

impulsive  mind  had  begun  to  fear  that  Royal  Clensy 
would  arrive  at  Honolulu  and,  not  finding  her  there, 
would  leave  again  thinking  she  was  not  coming. 

"  Perhaps  now  that  I'm  far  away  from  his  sight  he 
will  cease  to  think  so  much  of  me,  and  even  think  that 
I've  forgotten  him,"  she  murmured,  as  her  feverish 
imagination  began  to  think  over  it  all. 

She  looked  into  the  mirror  of  the  low-roofed  hotel 
room  and  saw  dark  rings  around  her  eyes,  her  face  was 
drawn  and  haggard  too.  In  the  natural  modesty  of 
women  that  possess  looks,  she  gazed  with  distress  on 
her  imaged,  beautiful  face.  "  I'm  not  beautiful  at 
all !  He  only  said  those  things  to  please  me.  I  mustn't 
wait !  He  might  forget  me  !  He  might  forget  me  !  " 
she  almost  sobbed,  as  the  shadows  of  night  fell  over 
Yucata  and  the  drunken  Mexican  sailors  passed  below 
her  window,  singing  strange  words  to  ancient  sounding 
melodies  as  they  tinkled  on  their  guitars. 

Sestrina  had  been  in  Yucata  for  eight  days  when  she 
found  herself  on  board  the  Belle  Isle.  There  was  only 
one  other  passenger  on  board,  and  that  was  an  extra- 
ordinary looking  aged  Chinaman. 

Though  the  Belle  Isle  was  called  a  schooner,  she 
was  a  brigantine,  a  hermaphrodite,  square-rigged 
schooner,  that  carried  square  sails  on  the  foremast  and 
the  main.  She  was  due  to  sail  at  any  moment ;  was 
only  waiting  a  favourable  wind. 

The  BeUe  Isle  looked  as  though  she  was  off  on  some 
buccaneering  voyage,  that  is,  if  the  character  of  the 
crew  was  anything  like  the  expression  on  their  faces. 
The  fact  is,  that  Sestrina  had  entrusted  an  aged  Mexican 
priest  to  arrange  for  her  passage,  also  the  choice  of  the 
boat.  And  it  will  not  be  defamation  of  character  to 
positively  assert  that  the  aforesaid  old  priest  had 
secured  Sestrina  the  cheapest  berth  on  the  rottenest 
schooner  he  could  find,  so  that  he  could  put  hah*  of  the 
money  entrusted  to  him  in  his  own  pocket.  And 
though  the  Mexican  ecclesiastic  had  fallen  on  his  sinful 
I 


130  SESTRINA 

knees  and  prayed  for  Sestrina's  soul  and  a  pleasant 
voyage  when  she  bade  him  farewell,  Sestrina  was  con- 
vinced that  she  had  been  swindled  directly  she  set  foot 
on  the  deck  of  the  Belle  Isle. 

The  skipper  was  a  swarthy  Mexican.  He  looked  as 
though  he  wouldn't  die  of  remorse  after  cutting  a  man's 
throat  for  the  bribe  of  a  dollar.  However,  he  had 
gallant  manners,  for  he  bowed  profusely  when  he  saw 
Sestrina  jump  down  on  deck,  and  seemed  to  be  quite 
elated  to  find  that  his  saloon  passenger  was  so  pre- 
possessing. 

The  crew  were  a  mixed  lot :  two  or  three  full-blooded 
Mexicans,  a  Chinese-Tahitian,  two  Yankee  niggers,  one 
old  man  who  looked  like  a  civilised  Hottentot,  and 
two  Kanakas.  There  was  also  a  tiny  lad,  Rajao,  about 
nine  years  of  age,  he  was  the  child  of  one  of  the  Mexican 
sailors. 

Sestrina's  dismay  was  very  obvious  when  the  nigger 
steward  showed  her  into  her  mingy  cabin  that  was 
situated  in  the  schooner's  cuddy  (saloon).  But  the 
Haytian  girl  accepted  the  situation  with  wonderful 
fortitude.  "  It's  not  for  long  !  "  she  thought  as  she 
looked  up  at  the  ancient-looking  yellowish-hued  hanging 
canvas  aloft,  and  thought  of  how  they  would  spread  to 
the  winds  and  bear  her  across  the  ocean  to  Honolulu 
and  Clensy's  arms. 

As  she  stood  on  deck  that  night  and  felt  the  breeze 
coming  that  would  cause  the  skipper  to  up  anchor  and 
set  sail,  she  became  quite  happy.  "  On  a  ship  at  last, 
bound  for  Honolulu !  "  she  thought.  "  And  where  is 
he  ?  Perhaps  still  in  Hayti.  I  will  wait  till  he  comes 
and  then  we  will  meet  again  and  remember  the  sweet 
nights  and  the  grape-vine  and  be  happy ! "  Ah, 
Sestrina ! 

All  wise  men  agree  that  happiness  is  only  a  fleeting 
anticipation  of  some  longed-for  event  which,  in  its  best 
consummation,  can  only  end  in  disillusionment.  And 
so  it  was  as  well  that  Sestrina  should  dream  her  own 


SESTRINA  131 

happiness  that  night.  It  was  to  be  brief  enough,  God 
knows. 

She  little  dreamed  the  true  nature  of  the  schooner 
on  which  she  had  embarked,  and  why  it  took  a  ghastly 
cargo  on  by  stealth  at  midnight.  Alas,  through  being 
educated  from  French  novels  instead  of  realistic  South 
Sea  novels,  Sestrina  was  quite  ignorant  of  the  terrible 
dramas  of  the  Pacific  seas  and  lonely  island  groups. 
Had  she  known  more  of  the  ways  of  the  world  and  life 
and  sorrow  in  those  seas,  she  would  never  have  placed 
herself  in  the  most  terrible  position  that  a  girl  could 
well  be  in.  Even  wilful  Sestrina  began  to  wish  she  had 
listened  to  her  Spanish  landlord's  advice,  to  wait  for 
one  of  the  large  steamers  that  went  to  Honolulu.  For 
as  she  lay  in  her  bunk  that  night,  just  before  the  Bdle 
Isle  sailed  at  dawn,  she  felt  sure  she  heard  strange 
groans  and  the  clankings  of  iron  chains  ! 

"  What  did  it  all  mean  ?  Was  that  a  smothered 
groan  and  then  a  farewell  as  some  one  wailed  '  Talofa  ! 
Aue !  0  Langi !  '  ?  Why  had  the  skipper  shut  the 
cuddy's  door  tight,  as  though  he  wished  to  keep  those 
moans  and  murmurs  on  the  deck  that  night  from  the 
ears  of  his  fair  passenger  ?  Was  that  a  phantom  bay 
that  the  Bdle  Isle  lay  anchored  in  as  the  red  tropic 
moon  bathed  the  palm-clad  shores  by  Yucata  with 
ghostly  gleams.  What  nightmare  could  it  be  where 
chained  men,  with  bulged,  vacant  eyes,  were  being 
carried  and  helped  on  deck  of  the  Bdle  Isle,  and  then 
secretly  dropped  down  into  the  fetid  hold  ?  The  Bdle 
Isle  was  not  a  blackbirding  schooner  (slave  ship),  for 
King  Hammerehai  of  Hawaii  had  issued  an  edict  that 
all  persons  found  dealing  in  slave  traffic  were  to  be 
'  shot  at  sight.'  And  the  Bdle  Isle  was  bound  for 
Hawaii.  So  what  was  the  mystery  of  that  dark  hold's 
cargo  ?  " 

Sestrina  awoke  in  the  morning  and  half  fancied  that 
she  must  have  dreamed  the  terror  that  had  haunted 
her  during  the  early  night  hours. 


132  SESTRINA 

Before  the  sun  was  well  up  on  the  horizon  the  Belle 
Isle,  with  every  stitch  of  her  old-fashioned  canvas 
spread,  was  fast  leaving  the  Pacific  coast.  Sestrina 
was  very  ill  for  the  first  two  days,  then  her  languor 
left  her.  As  she  stood  on  deck,  the  boundless  loneliness 
of  the  tropic  seas  depressed  her.  She  stared  over  the 
bulwark  side,  the  dim  blue  horizon  seemed  as  far  away, 
as  illusive  as  her  own  hopes  and  dreams.  The  noise 
of  the  half-filled  canvas  sails  depressed  her,  as  they 
filled  out  to  the  lazy  hot  wind  and  then  collapsed  with 
a  muffled  rumble. 

Only  two  members  of  the  crew  were  visible  as  she 
stood  on  deck,  and  they  were  stalwart  ferocious-looking 
men,  who  wore  strange  tasselled  caps,  and  somehow 
reminded  her  of  the  pictures  of  the  pirates  of  the  Spanish 
Main  which  she  had  seen  on  the  walls  of  the  British 
Consul's  residence  at  Petionville,  Port-au-Prince.  One 
of  the  men  seemed  to  be  busy  over  an  endless  coil  of 
rope.  The  other  man  stood  like  an  inanimate  figure, 
some  fixture  amidships,  by  the  hatchway.  Only  the 
tobacco  smoke  issuing  from  between  his  blackened 
teeth  destroyed  the  statuesque  effect  as  he  stood  sentinel 
at  that  spot. 

"  Noa  come  dis  way,  miss,"  the  man  muttered  as  he 
put  forth  his  skinny  hand  and  warned  Sestrina  away 
as  she  started  to  walk  forward. 

Finding  she  was  even  denied  the  freedom  of  walking 
about  the  schooner  as  she  pleased  the  girl's  heart 
became  heavy  with  dim  forebodings.  She  began  to 
realise  that  something  was  being  hidden  from  her. 

Hoping  to  find  some  one  congenial  to  speak  to,  she 
strolled  aft,  then  concluded  that  her  own  reflections 
were  the  better  company. 

The  man  at  the  wheel  was  a  wrinkled,  weird  looking 
Mongolian.  As  he  stood  there,  his  hands  gripping  the 
spokes  of  the  wheel,  his  pigtail,  moving  to  the  rolling 
of  the  schooner,  swung  to  and  fro  like  a  pendulum,  and 
to  Sestrina's  overwrought  brain,  seemed  to  be  ticking 


SESTRINA  133 

off  the  slow  minutes  of  the  hours  to  pass,  ere  something 
dreadful  happened !  The  aged  Chinaman,  Sestrina's 
fellow  passenger  in  the  cuddy,  had  been  the  more  con- 
genial to  Sestrina  had  he  never  come  on  board  :  he  lay 
in  his  bunk  day  and  night  chanting  weird  words  as  his 
yellow-skinned  hand  clutched  an  ivory  idol,  some 
heathenish  symbol  of  his  religion.  It  was  only  little 
Rajao,  the  Mexican  boatswain's  child  of  nine  years  of 
age,  who  Sestrina  felt  inclined  to  welcome.  Once  he 
came  running  up  to  the  girl,  and  after  staring  into  her 
face  curiously,  he  said,  "  You  nice,  Senorita,  I  like  you." 
Then  he  ran  away  forward. 

"  Morning,  Senorita,  nicer  day."  Sestrina  turned 
round  and  saw  the  Mexican  skipper.  "  You  speak 
Englesse  ?  "  he  said. 

Sestrina  nodded.  For  a  moment  she  could  not 
speak.  There  was  something  sinister-looking  about  the 
man's  face.  His  small,  brilliant  eyes  and  thin,  cruel- 
looking  lips  made  her  heart  quake.  He  had  stepped 
forward  and  had  touched  Sestrina  under  the  chin, 
giving  her  a  vulgar  leer.  The  next  moment  the  Haytian 
girl  had  swiftly  brought  her  hand  up  and  knocked  his 
arm  aside.  So  did  Sestrina  let  the  Mexican  skipper  of 
the  Belle  Isle  see  the  quality  of  her  mettle.  After  that 
incident,  she  made  up  her  mind  to  keep  severely  to 
herself.  She  had  scanned  each  member  of  the  crew 
and  had  come  to  the  conclusion  that  she  had  never 
seen  such  a  pack  of  cut-throats  before.  Only  the  negro 
steward  seemed  human.  He  did  have  the  grace  to 
say,  "  Marning,  missa,"  and  waited  on  her  at  the 
cuddy's  table  without  giving  lascivious  leers.  Sestrina's 
heart  resented  the  weird  music  that  accompanied  her 
meals,  for  the  Chinese  passenger,  who  was  suffering 
for  some  mortal  disease,  intensified  the  gloom  of 
the  cuddy  as  he  chanted  continuously  to  his  ivory 
idol. 

When  the  skipper  discovered  that  Sestrina  would 
allow  no  undue  familiarities,  he  tried  to  redeem  his  lost 


134  SESTRINA 

character  by  giving  her  dainty  dishes  :  tinned  Call- 
fornian  pears,  mangoes,  yams,  pineapples,  and  sweet 
scented  preserves  and  candies  adorned  the  mingy 
cuddy's  table. 

Sestrina  discovered  that  every  time  she  went  out  on 
deck,  she  was  shadowed  by  one  of  the  crew,  who  would 
not  allow  her  to  go  beyond  the  galley  which  was  situated 
just  abaft  the  hatchway.  This  restraint  placed  on  her 
movements  irritated  her,  as  well  as  filling  her  already 
worried  mind  with  apprehension.  Though  she  thought 
and  thought,  she  could  not  guess  what  the  mystery 
could  be.  Why  was  the  hatchway  always  open  during 
the  sweltering  heat  of  the  tropic  days,  while  the  Belle 
Isle  rolled  becalmed  on  the  glassy  sea,  and  guarded  by 
at  least  one  member  of  the  crew  day  and  night  ?  Who 
was  down  there  in  that  fetid  hold  ?  Sestrina  was  cer- 
tain that  she  could  hear  strange  mumblings  and  faint 
wails,  and  sometimes  a  sorrowful-sounding  song  being 
hummed  in  the  Belle  Isle's  hold  during  the  vast  silence 
of  the  tropic  nights.  Perhaps  they  were  prisoners, 
convicts  being  transported  from  South  America  to  some 
penal  settlement  away  in  the  Pacific  Islands,  or  refugees, 
like  herself,  and  afraid  to  show  their  faces  by  the  light 
of  day  ? 

As  Sestrina  reflected  over  the  mystery  of  the  schooner 
a  nervous  fright  seized  her  heart.  She  began  to  dread 
the  cramped  cuddy,  and  so  she  stood  on  deck  each 
night,  watching  the  hot  zephyrs  drift  across  the  glassy 
sea  and  ruffle  the  mirroring  water,  shattering  the  crowds 
of  imaged  stars.  As  the  days  went  by,  the  plomp  of 
the  yellow  canvas  overhead  and  the  interminable  moan 
and  mystery  of  the  beings  down  in  the  hold  began  to 
tell  on  the  Haytian's  girl's  brain.  At  last  she  would 
sit  on  deck  all  night,  too  terrified  and  miserable  to  stay 
in  the  cuddy. 

The  aged  Celestial  passenger  was  dying,  and  in  his 
delirium  would  incessantly  put  his  withered  yellow- 
skinned  hand  through  his  cabin  porthole — which  faced 


SESTRINA  135 

the  cuddy's  table — and,  clutching  the  ivory  idol,  would 
moan  and  chant  strange  words  to  it.  Sestrina  felt  like 
screaming  in  her  horror  over  that  heathenish,  but  sad 
sight. 

One  night  the  Mexican  skipper  knocked  the  skinny, 
yellowish  hand  back  and  gave  a  terrible  oath  as  the 
sight  got  on  his  nerves  too. 

"  E  fitu,  padre  meando,"  he  said  as  he  touched  his 
brow  significantly  and  gave  Sestrina  a  sympathetic 
look. 

But  Sestrina  hated  the  man.  She  knew  that  he  had 
deceived  her  ;  had  placed  her  in  that  precarious  position 
with  his  cut-throat  crew  so  that  he  could  make  a  few 
extra  dollars  by  securing  her  as  a  passenger. 

On  the  second  week  out  from  Yucata,  the  Chinese 
passenger  died,  and  the  ivory  idol  and  the  withered, 
yellowish  hand  disappeared  from  the  porthole ;  the 
chanting  was  over  for  ever.  But  strange  enough, 
Sestrina  felt  terribly  lonely  when  she  heard  that  the 
Celestial  was  dead.  The  skipper,  seeing  her  nervous 
state,  had  the  grace  to  attempt  to  keep  the  Chinaman's 
death  from  her.  But  Sestrina  knew  what  had  happened 
at  once,  for  she  saw  two  of  the  crew  go  into  the  silent 
cabin  and  pull  in  yards  of  sailcloth.  Then  she  saw  the 
crew  collect  on  deck  at  sunset,  ready  to  commit  the 
body  to  the  deep.  The  Mexican  captain,  for  all  his 
villainy,  became  religious  in  the  presence  of  death. 

Whether  it  was  carelessness,  or  had  been  done 
deliberately,  she  did  not  know,  but  the  hammock- 
shroud  was  sewn  down  so  that  the  skinny,  yellow  hands 
were  still  visible,  protruding  about  four  inches  through 
the  canvas.  In  a  few  moments  the  skipper  had 
murmured  the  solemn  sea  burial  service  as  the  crew 
stood  in  a  row,  their  strange  tasselled  caps  held  respect- 
fully in  their  hands.  The  sight  of  it  all  fascinated 
Sestrina.  And  as  the  weighted  shroud  softly  splashed, 
alighted  on  the  waters,  she  half  fancied  she  saw  the 
yellow  fingers  move,  as  though  they,  at  that  last  moment 


136  SESTRINA 

in  the  world  of  the  sun,  sought  to  clutch  the  ivory  idol. 
Then  she  saw  the  coffin-shroud  slowly  sink,  and,  like 
some  sad  symbol  of  all  the  universe  of  mortal  desire, 
one  bubble  came  to  the  calm  surface — and  burst ! 

After  seeing  that  sight  Sestrina  hurried  into  the 
cuddy,  in  some  strange  fright  seeking  to  hide  from  the 
memory  of  that  sorrow  which  she  had  just  seen.  But, 
in  the  great  irony  of  accidental  things,  the  first  thing 
that  caught  her  eyes  was  the  ivory  idol  lying  on  the 
cuddy's  table.  She  stared  on  it,  fascinated,  picked  it 
up,  and  then  dropped  it  in  fright.  Little  did  Sestrina 
dream  that  a  day  would  come  when  she  too  would  kneel 
in  humble  pagan  faith  before  that  tiny  carven  ivory  god. 

On  the  third  week  out  from  Yucata,  the  barometer 
began  to  fall. 

"  Senorita,  ze  wind  is  gwing  to  blow,  big  waves 
come  over  deck,  savvy  ?  "  said  the  skipper. 

"  I  don't  mind,"  replied  Sestrina  as  she  gazed  up  at 
the  deep  blue  of  the  tropic  sky  and  noticed  flocks  of 
strange  birds  travelling  out  of  the  dim  horizons.  On, 
on  they  came,  speeding  across  the  sky,  travelling  south- 
west on  their  migrating  flight  from  some  distant 
land,  outbound  for  another  continent.  Those  winged 
travellers  of  the  sky,  voyaging  onward,  had  read  their 
wonderful  compass,  instinct,  and  so  had  unerring 
knowledge  of  the  coming  hurricane.  Many  of  them 
had  long  necks  and  peculiar  loose  hanging  legs,  and  as 
they  passed  swiftly  over  the  lonely  Belle  Isle,  Sestrina 
heard  the  faint  rattle  and  whir  of  their  ungainly  wings 
and  legs  rushing  through  space. 

"  Big  winds  blow,  birds  they  know,  and  so  fly  fast," 
said  the  captain  as  he  too  followed  Sestrina's  gaze  and 
watched  the  flight  of  those  migrating  birds. 

"  No,  Senorita,"  said  the  skipper  when  Sestrina 
attempted  to  pass  out  of  the  cuddy  and  go  on  deck  that 
night. 

Perhaps  it  was  as  well  that  Sestrina  obeyed  the 
Mexican  skipper,  for  the  first  stars  had  hardly  pierced 


SESTRINA  137 

the  velvet  blue  of  the  evening  skies  when  the  typhoon 
struck  the  Belle  Isle.  The  sound  of  the  storm's  first 
breath  came  like  the  massed  trampling  of  infinite 
cavalry  and  low  mutterings  of  mighty  guns  that  fired 
the  thunders  and  lightnings  of  the  heavens. 

'Sestrina,  who  had  never  been  to  sea  in  real  bad 
weather,  thought  the  schooner  was  sinking. 

"  Rip  !  rppppppppp  !  "  the  stays  and  jib  were  torn  to 
ribbons,  were  flapping  like  mighty  wings,  making  a 
noise  which  could  be  heard  above  the  universal  clash 
and  clamour  of  the  thundering  seas.  The  skipper 
helped  the  crew  put  fresh  sail  out  to  steady  the  schooner 
that  lay  over  as  though  about  to  turn  turtle.  The 
crew  worked  with  a  will,  for  they  well  knew  that  their 
lives  were  at  stake. 

"  Let  me  out !  I  don't  want  to  be  shut  in  this  dismal 
place,"  said  Sestrina,  in  an  appealing  voice  to  the 
skipper  who  had  just  entered  the  cuddy.  The  schooner 
was  rolling  and  pitching  furiously.  The  girl  had  to 
hold  on  to  the  iron  stanchions  of  the  cuddy  to  stay 
herself  from  being  violently  flung  to  the  deck.  The 
skipper,  who  had  rushed  into  the  cuddy  for  some  rope 
and  tackle,  tried  to  soothe  Sestrina's  fears.  She  noticed 
that  his  manner  had  completely  changed ;  he  looked 
serious,  more  manly.  But  this  fact  did  not  ease  Sestrina's 
mind,  since  she  knew  the  change  in  his  demeanour  was 
because  he  saw  danger  ahead.  Nor  was  the  girl  wrong 
in  her  surmise.  The  skipper  well  knew  that  if  the 
typhoon  lasted  much  longer,  the  Belle  Isle  was  likely 
to  get  broadside  on  to  the  great  seas  and  would  possibly 
turn  turtle,  or  the  seas  would  sweep  everything  on 
deck  away. 

"  You  stay,  no  fright,  Senorita,"  he  said. 

Then  the  man  ran  out  on  deck  again. 

At  this  moment  little  Rajao,  the  boatswain's  child, 
rushed  into  the  cuddy  and  clung  to  Sestrina's  skirt. 

"  Ze  wins  blow !  Senorita,"  wailed  the  child,  a 
terrified  look  in  his  eyes,  as  he  stared  up  into  her  face. 


138  SESTRINA 

"It's  all  right,  don't  be  frightened,  Rajao,"  she  said. 

Sestrina  laid  the  boy  down  in  her  bunk  and  left  the 
cabin  door  open  so  that  he  would  not  be  frightened. 
Seeing  by  Rajao's  sudden  appearance  that  the  skipper 
in  his  haste  had  left  the  cuddy's  door  unfastened, 
Sestrina  immediately  rushed  towards  it,  and  opening 
the  door,  stared  out  into  the  night.  By  the  flashing  light 
of  the  stars,  that  seemed  to  nicker  to  the  force  of  the 
typhoon's  breath,  she  saw  the  great  seas  rising  up  !  up  ! 
They  looked  like  travelling  mountains,  foaming  liquid 
ranges  and  multitudinous  ridges  lit  with  phosphorescent 
foams,  that  were  tossed  and  swept  into  tremendous 
cataracts  of  glittering  sprays  as  the  typhoon's  breath 
swept  the  world  of  water  like  a  huge  unseen  knife. 

Crash !  The  schooner  stopped,  seemed  to  sink  by 
the  stern,  then  giving  a  shivery  jerk,  fell  before  the 
dead  weight  of  the  onrushing  seas  that  crashed  over 
her.  The  scene  the  lonely  girl  saw  was  as  though 
God  again  held  the  oceans  in  the  hollows  of  His  hands, 
as  though  the  universe  of  water  had  been  re-thrown 
into  the  infinite  ;  majestic  liquid  mountains  tossing 
mighty  arms  that  resembled  promontories  of  fiery 
foams,  triumphantly  travelling  through  boundless 
space,  bound  for  new  regions,  taking  the  millions  of 
marching  stars  with  them,  as  like  a  lone  ark,  with  its 
little  terrified  mortality,  the  Bdle  Isle  napped  its  broken 
wings,  bravely  struggling  in  some  effort  to  survive  the 
chaos  of  a  new  creation  ! 

In  her  fright  Sestrina  shut  the  cuddy's  door,-  bang ! 
and  then  stared  in  terror  through  the  porthole.  She 
knew  that  something  terrible  had  happened.  She 
distinctly  heard  faint  wails,  like  the  despairing  cries  of 
helpless  children  calling  from  somewhere  out  in  the 
infinity  of  dark  and  wind.  The  square-rigged  foremast 
had  been  snapped  off  just  above  the  mainyard — it  had 
gone  !  The  whole  crew  who  had  been  aloft  had  dis- 
appeared, washed  overboard.  Sestrina  and  little  Rajao, 
the  child,  out  of  all  the  crew,  were  left  alone.  The 


SESTRINA  139 

Haytian  girl  stood  at  the  porthole,  horrified  by  the 
catastrophe  which  she  knew  had  overtaken  the  BeUe 
Isle's  crew.  Like  most  women  of  her  type,  she  revealed 
true  pluck  in  a  great  emergency.  She  rushed  to  the 
child  Rajao.  He  had  given  a  terrified  scream. 

"It's  all  right,  Rajao,  I'm  near  you,"  she  said  as  she 
clutched  the  child  in  her  arms,  then  standing  him  on 
the  cuddy's  floor  exhorted  him  not  to  move.  Then 
she  stood  waiting.  An  eternity  of  apprehensive  terror 
passed  ere  she  felt  the  heavy  rolling  and  pitching  of  the 
vessel  subside.  The  distant  wails  out  in  the  night,  the 
silence  on  the  deck,  where  a  few  moments  before  she 
had  heard  loudly  shouted  oaths,  made  her  realise  that 
all  the  crew  had  gone.  She  knew  that  no  human  beings 
could  live  in  the  chaotic  crash  of  the  charging  seas  that 
loomed  before  her  terror-stricken  eyes  like  mountainous, 
glittering  icebergs  travelling  triumphant  across  the 
world !  In  the  first  realisation  of  her  own  terrible 
loneliness,  her  thoughts  flew  to  the  imprisoned  beings 
who,  she  knew,  were  down  in  the  hold  of  the  Belle  Isle. 
Looking  out  on  deck,  she  anxiously  awaited  her  chance  ; 
the  seas  were  still  leaping  over  the  side,  great  liquid 
masses  washing  to  and  fro  as  the  schooner  pitched  and 
rolled.  An  opportunity  presented  itself ;  she  ran  out 
on  deck  and  reached  the  main  hatchway.  Inclining 
her  head,  she  could  distinctly  hear  above  the  clamour 
of  the  changing  seas  muffled  groans  and  wild  criea 
coming  from  below  the  hatchway.  The  crew  had 
battened  the  hatch  down  just  before  the  typhoon  had 
burst  over  the  Belle  Isle.  As  she  stood  there  and 
listened  in  terror,  wondering  what  to  do,  a  small  shadowy 
figure  ran  towards  her.  It  was  the  child  Rajao.  He 
was  wringing  his  hands  and  calling  for  his  father. 

"  Go  back  !  get  into  the  cuddy,  quick,"  cried  Sestrina. 
The  next  moment  a  tremendous  sea  crashed  on  board. 
The  girl  gripped  a  rope  that  waa  hanging  from  the 
ratlines  near  the  galley,  and  so  saved  herself  from  being 
washed  away.  She  let  go  and  was  immediately  washed 


140  SESTRINA 

into  the  scuppers  on  the  windward  side.  In  her  horroj 
at  the  terrible  cry  that  came  to  her  ears,  she  ran  to  the 
side,  and,  careless  of  her  own  life,  stared  over  at  the 
great  seas — little  Rajao  had  gone  to  his  father  !  A  faint 
cry  came  out  of  the  waters  ;  then  nothing  more  to  tell  of 
Rajao's  existence.  This  new  disaster  upset  Sestrina 
more  than  anything  else  that  had  happened  that  night. 
She  rushed  back  into  the  cuddy,  and  throwing  herself 
on  the  floor  beat  her  hands  and  moaned  like  one 
demented.  After  a  while  she  calmed  down.  She  had 
wisdom  enough  to  realise  that  it  was  no  good  grieving. 
Then  she  sought  comfort  by  kneeling,  and  with  the 
crucifix  in  her  hand  prayed.  And  never  did  girl  pray 
more  fervently  than  did  Sestrina  Gravelot  that  night 
on  the  storm-tossed  Belle  Isle.  She  called  Clensy's 
name  aloud  in  her  prayers  so  that  the  word  "  Royal " 
might  bring  comfort  and  companionship  to  her  loneli- 
ness. Remembering  the  appealing  cry  which  she  had 
heard  when  she  had  stood  by  the  hatchway,  she  calmed 
herself  and  longed  to  release  the  prisoners. 

"  Thank  God  that  I'm  not  alone,  there  is  some  one 
near  me,"  she  cried,  as  she  once  more  went  to  the  cuddy's 
door  and  anxiously  waited  a  favourable  moment  to 
get  to  the  main  hatch  again.  The  first  wild  breath  of 
the  typhoon  had  passed,  but  the  seas  were  still  running 
high.  Seizing  the  first  opportunity  she  once  more  ran 
along  the  deck.  Directly  she  came  to  the  main  hatch 
she  gripped  a  long  piece  of  rope,  and  making  one  end 
fast  round  her  waist,  tied  the  other  end  into  the  bolt 
at  the  bottom  of  the  mainmast.  The  whole  time  that 
she  stood  there  she  could  hear  muffled  wailings  and 
voices  speaking  in  a  strange  language,  beseeching  her 
to  release  them  from  their  perilous  position. 

Sestrina  strove  to  lift  the  hatchway,  but  found  it 
quite  impossible  to  do  so  with  her  delicate  hands. 
Placing  her  face  close  to  the  cracks  in  the  hatch,  she 
shouted,  "  Who  are  you  ?  I'm  all  alone,  the  storm  has 
washed  all  the  crew  of  this  ship  overboard  !  " 


SESTRINA  141 

Then  she  listened.  At  first  she  heard  a  lot  of 
mumbling,  as  though  insane  men  were  gabbling  in  an 
unintelligible  manner ;  then  to  her  immense  relief  a 
voice  said  : 

"  Wahine !  Oh  save  us  or  we  die  !  "  It  was  a  musical, 
clear  voice  and  sounded  strangely  calm  in  the  midst  of 
the'  hubbub  of  other  voices  that  gabbled  incessantly. 

"  I  cannot  lift  the  hatch  ;  I'm  not  strong  enough," 
she  shouted  back  as  the  wind  swept  her  hair  streaming 
behind  her.  A  sea  crashed  on  board.  She  was  only 
saved  through  her  forethought  in  lashing  herself  to  the 
bolt  in  the  mainmast.  As  soon  as  the  water  had 
subsided  the  schooner  ceased  to  roll. 

Again  she  placed  her  mouth  to  the  chink  in  the  hatch 
and  shouted  once  more,  "  The  crew  have  been  washed 
overboard  ;  I'm  a  woman,  all  alone  up  here  ;  and  who 
are  you  ?  " 

"  All  gone,  wash  way  ?  "  replied  the  melancholy 
voice,  the  only  voice  that  spoke  in  English.  Then  the 
voice  continued,  "  You  woman's  all  alone  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I'm  quite  alone." 

"  Getter  hammer  or  lump  of  iron  and  knock  lumps 
of  wood,  bolts,  out  of  the  sides  of  the  hatch  so  that  we 
stricken  men,  0  Wahine,  may  open  it,"  said  the  voice 
in  pathetic  appeal. 

The  next  moment  Sestrina  was  groping  about  the  dark 
deck  seeking  something  that  would  enable  her  to  knock 
the  large  bolts  from  the  hatchway.  At  last  she  found 
an  iron  bar  in  the  galley.  Risking  the  danger  of  the 
heavy  seas  that  still  leapt  on  board  every  time  the 
Belle  Isle  rolled  and  lay  over  to  windward,  she  lifted  the 
bar  and  smashed  away  at  the  bolts  with  all  her  might. 

"  I  cannot  move  the  bolts  !  "  she  cried  when  she  had 
struck  away  till  her  fingers  bled. 

"  Oh,  try  again,  Wahine,  for  the  sake  of  dying  men," 
replied  the  voice  as  the  gabbling  ceased. 

"  Who  are  you  ?  and  why  are  you  locked  down 
there  ?  "  replied  Sestrina  as  she  stood  breathless  on  the 


142  SESTRINA 

deck  and  for  the  first  time  realised  her  position.  There 
were  evidently  many  men  locked  up  in  that  fetid  hold, 
and  she  was  there,  a  woman  alone,  about  to  release 
them.  Her  natural  instincts  had  begun  to  warn  her. 

"  Ah  papalagi,  kind  Wahine,  we  are  only  poor  men 
who  have  been  taken  away  from  our  homes  because  we 
be  ill."  There  was  an  appealing,  earnest  note  in  the 
voice  that  said  this,  that  sounded  unerringly  true. 

Sestrina's  fears  vanished.  "  111 !  "  she  cried,  as  the 
winds  swept  the  deck  and  slashed  her  mass  of  wildly 
blown  hair  about  her  face.  "  Is  thao  the  only  reason 
that  you  have  been  locked  up  down  there  ?  "  she  called 
back. 

"  'Tis  all  that  is  the  matter  with  us,  and  by  the  light 
of  truth  and  the  great  Kuahilo,  Pele,  and  the  White  God, 
I  say  this,  0  Wahine,"  replied  the  voice  in  a  trembling 
way. 

Sestrina's  heart  was  touched.  The  next  moment  she 
had  once  again  begun  to  deliver  direct  blows  at  the  hatch 
bolts.  Then  she  discovered  that  she  had  been  knocking 
them  the  wrong  way.  Crash !  out  came  the  first 
bolt ;  crash !  out  came  another.  In  a  few  minutes 
she  stood  still  again ;  all  the  bolts  were  out  except  two, 
one  bolt  on  either  side.  Dawn  was  stealing  across  the 
storm-tossed  seas. 

Though  the  first  passion  of  the  typhoon  had  blown 
itself  out,  a  steady  wind  of  hurricane  force  was  still 
blowing.  Up !  up !  rose  the  tremendous  hills  of  water 
and  the  Belle  Isle  creaked  and  groaned  as  she  lifted  and 
the  great  seas  passed  safely  under  her  !  For  a  moment 
the  lonely  Haytian  girl  stared  seaward.  It  was  a 
terrible,  yet  grand  scene  from  the  derelict  schooner's 
deck  as  the  battered  wreck  laboured  like  a  brave, 
conscious  thing  and  the  torn  sails  flapped  and  the  seas 
leapt  on  board  and  romped  about  her  like  hungry 
monsters. 

Sestrina  had  opened  the  hatchway,  and  had  at  once 
hastily  retreated  towards  the  cuddy's  doorway.  As 


SESTRINA  f  143 

she  stood  there  watching  by  the  dim  light  of  the  break- 
ing dawn,  which  had  barely  extinguished  the  stars  to 
the  west,  she  fancied  she  could  hear  the  thumping  of  her 
own  heart.  > 

"  Who  had  she  rescued  from  the  fetid  depths  of  the 
schooner's  hold  ?  "  Her  eyes  were  fixed  on  the  opened 
hatchway.  First  one  head  appeared ;  jusi  for  a  moment 
it  wobbled  and  then  sank  back,  as  though  from  extreme 
exhaustion  through  climbing  the  ladder  that  led  from 
the  schooner's  bottom  np  to  the  deck.  In  another 
moment  the  head  had  reappeared.  Sestrina  saw  the 
face !  She  stared  like  one  paralysed  at  that  terrible, 
ghastly  sight.  It  was  a  skeleton  of  death,  and  the  face 
noseless,  disease  eaten ;  tfhe  head  wobbled  and  swayed 
helplessly ;  the  fleshless  lips  grinned  as  the  bony  fore- 
head turned  and  the  face  stared  towards  the  dawn  of  the 
far  skyline  with  blind  eyes !  Then  another  head 
appeared ;  it  was  white  and  blotched  with  snowy 
patches,  hairless.  The  face  might  have  been  some 
symbol  of  all  sorrow  and  misery  under  the  sun,  so 
pathetic  looking  was  it,  as  it,  too,  shifted  about,  staring 
first  to  port  and  then  to  starboard,  as  though  it  would 
scan  the  dim  horizons  of  the  grey  dawn-lit  seas  for  help  ! 
Then  came  up  another  head.  It  was  apparently  the 
head  of  the  one  who  had  stood  below,  behind  the  others, 
assisting  them,  helping  them  ascend  the  ladder.  There 
was  no  sign  of  disease  on  the  head  or  face  of  this  one. 
He  was  a  tall,  handsome  man  with  fine  bright  eyes. 
Sestrina  stared  in  surprise.  She  began  to  seek  comfort 
in  the  thought  that  all  she  saw  was  only  some  terrible 
nightmare  of  her  afflicted  brain.  The  tall  Hawaiian, 
for  such  he  was,  was  attired  in  picturesque  costume,  a 
tappa-cloth  girdle  and  flowing  robe,  such  as  Hawaiian 
chiefs  wear.  The  man's  alert  eyes  at  once  espied 
Sestrina's  form  as  she  stood  in  the  shadows,  just  inside 
the  cuddy's  doorway.  He  had  leapt  on  to  the  deck  and 
was  moving  in  a  hesitating  way  towards  her.  Sestrina 
gripped  the  door  handle,  quite  prepared  to  rush  in 


144  SESTRINA 

the  saloon  and  shut  it ;  then  she  stared  hard  in  the  soft 
grey  light  of  the  tropic  dawn,  and  saw  something  in  the 
man's  face  that  told  her  he  deserved  her  deepest 
sympathy  and  not  her  fear  ! 

"  Who  are  you,  and  who  are  they  ?  What's  the 
matter  with  them  ? "  she  asked  of  the  handsome 
Hawaiian,  as  she  pointed  towards  the  deck  by  the 
main  hatchway.  Ten  terrible-looking  beings  stood 
swaying  like  skeletons  in  their  ragged  shrouds,  drink- 
ing in  the  fresh  air  of  the  fast-breaking  dawn,  as  dying 
castaways  might  drink  in  water.  What  more  terrible 
sight  could  the  whole  world  present  than  that  lonely, 
wrecked,  waterlogged  schooner,  and  on  its  deck  those 
wobbling  heads  with  half-blind  eyes,  the  rags  of  the 
skeleton  frames  flapping  in  the  wind,  their  forms  fall- 
ing to  the  deck  as  the  schooner  rolled  and  pitched  on 
the  storm-tossed  seas.  The  fallen  figures  were  on 
their  knees,  with  lifted  hands,  praying  feverishly  in 
some  musical  tongue  to  the  skies  where  the  first  deep 
blue  of  the  tropic  day  was  stealing. 

"Are  you  quite  alone,  Wahine?"  said  the  Hawaiian, 
who  had  sadly  watched  Sestrina's  terrified  gaze  on  that 
dreadful  sight  of  his  fellows. 

For  a  moment  the  girl  looked  steadily  into  the  man's 
eyes,  then  replied,  "I  am  quite  alone;  the  crew  were 
all  washed  away  last  night." 

It  was  then  that  the  tall  Hawaiian  stood  erect  with 
bowed  head,  as  though  lowered  before  the  girl's  eyes  in 
some  shame,  and  said,  "Wahine,  we  got  kilia  (leprosy), 
and  this  ship  was  taking  us  to  the  leper  settlement, 
Molokai."  Saying  this  to  the  girl,  the  tall,  melancholy- 
looking  man  seemed  relieved.  He  raised  his  head  and 
said  softly,  in  the  biblical  style  of  the  Hawaiians  who 
have  learnt  their  English  from  the  missionaries,  "And 
Wahine,  who  art  thou?" 

Sestrina  was  speechless.  She  could  not  reply,  for 
in  her  despair  and  horror  she  forgot  who  she  was. 
"Lepers!"  was  the  only  word  that  escaped  from  her 


SE8TRINA  145 

lips  when  the  great  mist  left  her  brain,  and  once  more 
the  Belle  Isle's  deck  became  a  solid  something  being 
beaten  by  the  chaotic  waters  of  an  infinite  sea.  She 
had  suddenly  turned,  as  though  she  were  about  to  flee 
from  that  terrible  presence,  a  scourge  that  made  the 
living  dead  still  stand  in  the  light  of  the  sun,  that  they 
might  watch  their  bodies  dissolve  before  the  ravages, 
the  canker  of  a  loathsome  pollution,  a  malignant  scourge 
that  made  its  victims  bless  the  blindness  of  their 
afflicted  eyes  as  the  third  stage  arrived,  the  stage  when 
they  could  no  longer  see  their  disease-eaten  limbs,  the 
polluted  flesh,  and  the  peeping,  whitened  bones  of  their 
own  unburied  skeletons.  Where  could  Sestrina  fly  to  ? 
Where  ?  Already  a  faint  odour  from  the  pestilence  of 
those  swaying,  moaning  lepers  came  floating  to  her 
nostrils.  What  had  she  done  that  she  should  be  cast 
away  on  a  world  of  waters,  alone  on  a  living  tomb  where 
the  dead  clamoured  in  their  shrouds,  put  forth  bony 
ringers,  and  with  half-blind  eyes  sought  with  pathetic 
indecision  to  locate  her  whereabouts,  as  they  appealed 
for  water  and  food  !  Food  for  the  dead  !  Nourishment 
to  sustain  the  loathsome  body  in  that  hellish  purgatory 
where  men  hated  and  feared  men,  where  pain  and 
misery  came  as  a  blessing  divine  to  stay  memories  of 
past  love  and  homes,  the  anguished  thoughts  that 
haunt  the  living  grave  !  "  Food  !  wai  (water!)  "  they 
cried.  Such  is  the  love  of  life  in  mortals  who  have  once 
dwelt  alive  under  the  sun ! 

The  intermittent  sounds,  the  beseeching  mumblings 
of  their  parched,  almost  fleshless  lips,  told  Sestrina  of 
their  hunger  and  thirst.  The  language  they  wailed  was 
unintelligible  to  her,  but  the  appeal  of  the  shrivelled 
outstretched  hands  and  the  stare  in  the  bulged  glassy 
eyes  spoke  in  that  language  which  is  intelligible  to  all 
mortals  who  dwell  under  the  sun.  The  horror  that  had 
partially  paralysed  Sestrina'a  senses  vanished.  (Slhe 
was  a  woman.  The  slumbering  instincts  of  divine 
motherhood,  the  sympathy  and  self-denial  which  springs 


146  SESTRINA 

into  the  hearts  of  most  women  when  they  are  put  to  the 
supreme  test  by  some  heart-rending  catastrophe,  or 
when  despairing  men  appeal,  awoke  in  her  soul.  The 
inscrutable  will  of  Providence,  that  so  often  stabs  the 
heart  with  one  hand  and  with  the  other  soothes  with 
sweetest  balm,  had  given  Sestrina  the  divine  faculty 
which  enables  one  to  forget  one's  own  sorrow  when  in 
the  presence  of  a  greater  grief.  And  so  Sestrina's 
fragile  form  was  enabled  to  bear  the  weight  of  grief 
at  that  moment  in  her  life,  grief  of  a  nature  which  was 
surely  about  the  cruellest  that  the  fates  could  devise. 
Her  desire  to  flee  from  the  presence  of  those  afflicted 
men  was  swept  away  by  a  flood  of  sympathy  and  a 
feverish  desire  to  help  to  alleviate  their  sufferings.  She 
looked  into  the  eyes  of  the  tall,  almost  dignified-looking, 
handsome  Hawaiian  who  stood  before  her.  No  sign 
of  the  scourge  was  visible  on  his  countenance.  Seeing 
the  girl's  hasty  glance  at  his  face  and  over  his  form, 
and  divining  the  reason  why  she  had  stared  so,  he  at 
once  pulled  up  the  sleeve  of  his  native  jerkin,  and, 
pointing  to  his  arm,  just  under  the  muscles  by  the 
shoulder,  said,  *'  See,  Wahine  ?  " 

A  small  bluish  patch,  not  larger  than  a  penny  piece, 
was  visible.  The  Hawaiian's  earnest,  simple  manner 
and  the  thought  that  he  was  still  strong  and  possibly  a 
doughty  protector  if  trouble  came,  acted  like  magic  on 
Sestrina's  stricken  nerves. 

"  Come  on  !  "  she  said. 

The  next  moment  she  had  dodged  the  green  seas 
that  were  leaping  over  the  side,  and  had  entered  the 
silent  cuddy.  The  Hawaiian  had  followed  her.  Grasping 
the  iron  posts  in  the  cuddy  to  save  herself  from  falling, 
for  the  schooner  was  still  rolling  very  heavily,  she 
opened  the  small  lockers  and  brought  forth  tinned  meats, 
tinned  fruits,  bread,  jam,  and  all  the  table  delicacies  she 
could  lay  her  hands  on.  She  looked  up,  sorrow  and 
surprise  in  her  eyes  as  the  Hawaiian  stood  devouring  « 
lump  of  the  bread.  Yes,  so  great  was  his  hunger. 


SESTRINA  147 

"  Come  on  !  "  she  said. 

Then  she  ran  out  on  deck.  Seeing  the  lepers  huddled 
by  the  starboard  scupper,  all  clinging  to  the  bolts  and 
ropes  as  they  swayed  on  their  knees  in  their  helpless- 
ness, she  held  the  food  up  and  beckoned  the  tall 
Hawaiian  to  take  it  to  them.  In  a  moment  Hawahee, 
for  such  was  the  tall  Hawaiian's  name,  approached 
his  stricken  comrades  and  gave  them  bread. 

"  Here,  quick  !  "  said  Sestrina,  as  she  saw  him  trying 
to  burst  the  lid  of  one  of  the  tins  of  meat  open.  She 
had  handed  him  a  strong  ship's  clasp-knife.  In  a 
second  he  had  wrenched  the  lid  off.  As  the  lepers 
crawled  about  the  deck,  picking  up  the  scattered 
crumbs  and  bits,  Sestrina  could  hear  them  murmuring, 
"  0  Jesu,  Maki,  kola,  se  moaa  Langi."  She  knew  that 
they  were  thanking  her  and  the  gods  of  their  own  creed 
and  her  own  Saviour. 

Such  was  Sestrina's  experience  on  the  Bdle  Isle  when 
the  crew  were  washed  overboard.  Daylight  and  the 
bright  tropic  sun  shining  over  the  ocean  eased  her  first 
terrors.  Strange  as  it  may  seem,  the  sight  of  the 
stricken  lepers,  and  her  knowledge  that  she  could  help 
them,  made  her  accept  the  tragical  position  with  a 
strange  feeling  of  calmful  fear  and  happiness.  The 
Hawaiian,  Hawahee,  had  an  intellectual  countenance, 
and  his  manner  was  reserved  and  gentle.  Sestrina 
thanked  God  on  her  knees  when  she  discovered  that  he 
had  the  scourge  only  in  its  first  stage,  and  very  slight. 
She  trembled  when  she  thought  of  what  her  position 
would  have  been  had  she  found  herself  alone  on  those 
tropic  seas  with  stricken  lepers  who  were  nearly  all  in 
an  advanced  stage.  Four  of  them  were  quite  blind, 
the  rest  were  able  to  walk  about  and  help  Hawahee  put 
things  ship-shape  on  board  as  the  days  went  by.  Hawa- 
hee spoke  little  to  her,  but  his  sad  demeanour,  and  the 
little  he  did  say  when  he  spoke  to  her,  convinced  Sestrina 
that  he  was  a  true  friend. 

Two  or  three  days  after  she  had  rescued  the  lepers 


148  SESTRINA 

from  the  fetid  hold,  they  nearly  all  showed  signs  of 
improvement.  Even  the  four  blind  men  would  stand 
out  on  deck  and  bathe  in  the  hot  sunlight.  It  was  a 
terrible  sight,  though.  Sestrina  would  turn  her  eyes 
away  as  they  put  forth  their  withered,  almost  fleshless 
hands  and  chanted  strange  prayers  to  the  skies.  On 
the  fourth  night  after  the  typhoon,  one  of  the  blind 
lepers  rushed  out  of  the  forecastle  and  jumped  over- 
board. Sestrina  and  Hawahee,  who  were  standing  aft 
by  the  cuddy  with  an  oil-lamp,  sorting  out  tinned  fruits 
that  they  had  found  in  the  lazaretto,  heard  a  cry  and 
at  once  rushed  forward.  The  swell  was  still  heavy, 
causing  the  schooner  to  roll  at  times  in  an  alarming 
way.  As  Hawahee  and  Sestrina  stared  over  the  side 
they  heard  the  cry  again,  a  faint  cry  like  the  wail  of  a 
child,  but  they  could  see  nothing.  Then  the  moon, 
which  had  been  concealed  by  a  wrack  of  cloud,  seem- 
ingly floated  into  the  blue  space  and  sent  a  great  silver 
radiance  over  the  waters. 

"  Look  !  there  he  is  !  "  cried  Sestrina,  as  she  pointed 
away  towards  the  rolling,  glassy  waters. 

True  enough,  as  Hawahee  and  the  three  stronger 
lepers,  Lupo,  Rohana,  and  Steno,  stared  over  the  side 
they  could  see  their  comrade's  struggling  form.  For  a 
moment  the  moon  once  more  disappeared  behind  a  dark 
cloud,  and  the  sad  watchers  on  the  wrecked  Belle  Isle 
only  heard  a  faint  cry  as  they  stared  into  the  darkness. 
Then  a  long  shaft  of  moonlight  fell  slantwise,  down  to 
where  they  had  seen  the  struggling  form,  and  touched 
the  waters.  And  as  Sestrina  watched,  it  seemed  to  her 
that  a  door  in  Heaven  had  suddenly  been  opened  by  the 
Hand  of  divine  sympathy.  They  saw  the  dying  man's 
hands  toss  for  the  last  time  from  his  watery  grave,  as 
though  in  some  pathetic  appeal  to  the  heavens.  Though 
the  seas  still  rolled  on  and  the  tangled  ropes  and  torn 
sails  flapped  aloft  and  the  schooner's  deck  creaked  and 
moaned  to  the  eternal  roll,  it  seemed  that  a  great 
silence  followed  that  last  sad  moment.  Hawahee 


SESTRINA  149 

sighed  and  Sestrina's  form  trembled  as  she  stood  there, 
her  hair  outstreaming  to  the  wind.  Yet  they  both  knew 
that  their  dead  comrade  had  at  last  found  rest  and 
peace. 

Sestrina's  brain  became  strangely  etherealised  through 
sorrow.  Grief  had  the  effect  of  strengthening  her  mind. 
Even  Hawahee  gazed  on  the  lonely  girl  in  calm  admira- 
tion as  she  ran  about  attending  his  stricken  comrades 
with  unremitting  solicitude. 

"  Here  are  pillows  and  blankets,"  she  said,  as  she 
handed  Hawahee  all  the  bedclothes  she  had  found  in 
the  cuddy's  cabins. 

"  Aloah,  Wahine,"  murmured  the  Hawaiian,  as  he 
bowed  and  took  them  from  the  girl's  arms  and  at  once 
went  forward  to  make  comfortable  beds  for  his  leper 
fellows.  For  the  Hawaiian  also  was  a  good  man,  his 
heart  full  of  tenderness  and  religious  sorrow  for  those 
who  suffered  around  him.  Sestrina  would  sit  in  the 
cuddy  alone  by  night,  unable  to  sleep  as  the  schooner 
rolled  helpless  on  the  tropic  seas.  A  diua,  dream-like 
kaleidoscopic  glimpse  of  Royal  Clensy  sitting  in  some 
room  in  far-away  Honolulu,  awaiting  her  presence, 
would  flash  through  her  brain.  Her  feelings  at  such 
moments  were  wonderfully  intense ;  her  past,  her  life 
itself  and  future  hopes  seemed  to  be  suddenly  crystallised 
into  one  magic  diamond-flash  of  the  mind  as  she  saw 
the  shadowy  form  and  face  of  her  awaiting  lover.  Her 
soul,  winged  by  the  mystery  of  the  unexplainable, 
crossed  those  tropic  seas  and  went  wandering  amongst 
strange  people  in  strange  places,  searching  to  find  the 
one  who  would  think  she  had  forgotten  him.  Then  the 
boundless  reality  of  the  surrounding  ocean  would  return 
and  bring  the  darkest  despair  to  her  heart. 

In  a  few  days  the  swell  of  the  ocean  had  subsided 
enough  to  make  it  possible  to  walk  about  the  Belle  Isle 
without  holding  on  to  the  fixtures.  It  was  then  that 
Hawahee  set  about  clearing  the  deck  of  the  wreckage, 
fallen  spars  and  tackle,  etc.  The  Hawaiian  had  been  a 


150  SESTRINA 

sailor,  and  so  lie  knew  that  it  would  be  wise  to  get  the 
fallen  spars  of  the  mainmast  and  the  debris  of  the 
foremast  overboard  so  as  to  ease  the  schooner's  list. 
The  clearance,  by  the  help  of  Rohana  and  Lupo  and 
Steno,  was  accomplished  in  one  day.  Then  Hawahee 
made  Lupo  take  the  helm,  so  that  he  could  attempt  to 
keep  the  vessel's  head  before  the  swell ;  but  the  way  of 
the  schooner  was  not  sufficient,  and  so  she  drifted 
broadside.  A  few  nights  after  that  it  came  on  to  blow 
again.  Things  began  to  look  serious.  Sestrina  asked 
the  Hawaiian  to  stay  aft  with  her  in  the  cuddy.  The 
thundering  seas  had  once  more  begun  to  lift  the  schooner 
as  though  it  were  a  tiny  boat.  The  seas  swept  right 
over  her  deck  as  she  drifted  away,  away  into  the  vast 
unknown  regions  of  the  Pacific  Ocean. 

Seeing  that  nothing  could  be  done  to  bring  the  Belle 
Isle  under  control,  Hawahee  told  the  lepers  to  keep  in 
the  forecastle.  Then  he  looked  kindly  at  Sestrina,  and 
said,  "  Wahine,  for  your  sake  I  will  stay  aft." 

"  Yes,  do  stay  here  with  me  !  "  cried  Sestrina  in 
dread  as  the  darkness  came  over  the  seas  and  the 
thundering  seas  crashed  intermittently  against  the 
schooner.  It  was  a  terrible  night.  The  cargo  shifted 
in  the  hold,  making  the  Bette  Isle  take  a  worse  list  than 
ever.  It  was  almost  impossible  to  keep  a  footing  on 
deck  without  holding  on  to  something.  Hawahee  fell 
on  his  knees  in  the  cuddy  and  prayed  first  to  the  great 
White  God,  and  then  to  his  own  gods.  It  all  seemed 
like  some  terrible  nightmare  to  Sestrina  as  she  lay  in 
an  exhausted  state  on  the  cuddy's  settee,  her  sleepless 
eyes  watching  the  Hawaiian  on  his  knees  appealing  to 
his  gods  with  deep  religious  fervour.  So  often  did 
Sestrina  feel  the  mountainous  waters  bear  down  on  the 
wreck  and  lift  it  up  on  the  travelling  hills,  that  she 
knew  exactly  when  to  expect  the  crash  and  shiver  of 
the  schooner  as  the  seas  struck  her. 

"  Where  are  we  going  to,  where  ?  "  moaned  Sestrina. 

The  Hawaiian,  who  had  risen  to  his  feet,  gazed  on 


SESTRINA  151 

the  girl  with  melancholy  eyes,  and  then  shook  his  head. 
He  well  knew  that  the  Bdle  Isle  was  drifting  far  away 
from  the  track  of  the  trading  vessels,  away  into  the 
unknown  seas. 

Daylight  came.  Sestrina  had  lashed  herself  to  the 
cuddy's  table  and,  with  her  head  on  it,  had  fallen  into 
a  subconscious  state.  She  thanked  her  Maker  on  her 
knees  when  she  woke  and  peered  through  the  porthole. 
She  saw  the  dim  eastern  horizon  slowly  brighten  from 
grey  to  saffron  and  deep  orange.  Then  she  watched  the 
crimson  streaks  burst  out  of  the  glowing  dawn's  first 
magnificent  thrill,  dawn's  first  splendid  pang  as  the 
birth  of  the  sunrise  flooded  the  eastern  skyline  with  a 
wealth  of  golden  and  crimson  splendour. 

"  0  Langi,  0  le  sao  va  moana,"  said  Hawahee,  as  he 
gazed  on  the  rosy  eternity  of  the  east.  Then,  folding 
his  hands  across  his  breast,  he  prayed  in  his  native 
tongue.  And  still  the  Bdle  Isle  drifted  on,  drifting 
like  some  frightened  conscious  thing  as  the  everlasting 
seas  charged  her  helplessness.  She  was  loaded  with 
timber,  and  so,  as  far  as  sinking  was  concerned,  they 
were  safe. 

"  We  shall  not  sink  ;  Langi  (heaven)  is  good  to  us," 
murmured  Hawahee  as  he  walked  softly  into  the  cuddy 
after  examining  the  Bdle  Isle's  cargo. 

When  the  seas  had  calmed  down,  Sestrina  and  Hawa- 
hee stood  on  deck  and  scanned  the  horizon  to  see  if 
land  or  a  sail  was  in  sight. 

"  Fear  not,  Wahine,  Langi  and  your  great  White  God 
are  with  us."  So  spake  Hawahee  as,  with  his  hand 
arched  over  his  eyes,  he  carefully  scanned  the  boundless 
skylines.  Sestrina  did  not  gaze  across  the  seas,  but  she 
scanned  Hawahee's  face,  and  knew  by  its  expression 
and  by  his  eyes  that  no  sail  was  in  sight.  And  still 
Sestrina  hoped  on.  And  did  Hawahee  hope  on  ?  No ! 
It  was  only  for  the  girl's  sake  that  he  would  wish  to 
sight  a  sail  on  those  solitary  tropic  seas.  He  well  knew 
that  should  a  passing  vessel  come  to  rescue  him  and  his 


152  SESTRINA 

comrades,  the  crew  would,  on  discovering  that  they 
were  lepers,  flee  from  the  Belle  Isle  in  terror.  And  so  it 
was  for  Sestrina's  sake  only  that  he  watched  the  sky- 
lines with  hope. 

The  Belle  Isle  had  been  drifting  exactly  twelve  days 
when  something  happened  that  lessened  the  terror  of 
their  position.  Hawahee  was  staring  seaward.  The 
wild  splendour  of  sunset's  burnished  light  along  the 
western  horizon  had  subdued  the  brilliance  of  the  tropic 
day,  so  that  the  skyline  to  the  south-west  was  visible 
to  the  ocean's  apparent  remotest  rim.  Hawahee  sud- 
denly startled  Sestrina  by  shouting,  "  Look,  Wahine  !  " 

Sestrina  stared  over  the  side,  her  hair  blowing  wildly 
about  her  shoulders  as  the  steady  breeze  slashed  her  form. 

"  What  is  it  ?  quick,  tell  me,"  she  said  as  she  still 
gazed  eagerly,  her  hand  arched  over  her  eyes  as  she 
stared  and  stared.  Again  Hawahee  pointed  to  the 
south-west.  It  was  then  that  Sestrina  caught  the  first 
glimpse  of  a  bluish  blotch  that  looked  like  a  tiny  cloud 
on  the  remote  skyline.  It  was  land !  The  Haytian 
girl's  pulses  leapt  with  joy.  She  burst  into  tears,  so  in- 
tense was  her  delight  in  the  thought  that  she  would 
see  the  solid  earth  again  and  the  faces  of  men  and 
women,  with  happy  eyes,  beings  who  enjoyed  the  air 
they  breathed  in  the  glorious  thrill  of  healthy  life. 
Such  were  the  half-formed  thoughts  that  swept  through 
Sestrina's  excited  mind.  But  why  did  a  shadow  creep 
over  Hawahee's  face  ?  Why  did  he  fear  the  sight  of 
strong,  health-loving  men  who  thanked  God  for  the 
health  and  liberty  which  they  shared  in  common  with 
the  insects  of  the  air.  Ah,  why  ?  Hawahee  and  his 
comrades  well  knew  that  they  were  loathsome  outcasts 
of  creation.  He  knew  that,  were  there  civilised  men 
on  the  isle  (for  such  was  the  land  towards  which  the 
schooner  was  fast  drifting),  he  and  his  comrades  would 
be  captured  and  chained  like  felons  so  that  they  could 
be  safely  re-shipped  and  sent  away  to  the  terrible 
lazaretto,  the  dread  Leper  Isle — Molokai. 


SESTRINA  153 

As  Hawahee  watched,  the  shadow  passed  from  his 
face ;  his  eyes  re-brightened.  There  was  yet  hope  for 
him  and  his  comrades.  It  was  quite  possible  that  the 
isle  they  saw  was  one  of  the  hundreds  of  uninhabited 
isles  of  the  South  Pacific  Ocean.  Hawahee  did  not  fear 
the  savages  who  might  inhabit  such  an  isle.  He  knew 
that  they  would  be  quite  ignorant  of  the  contagious 
nature  of  the  scourge  from  which  he  and  his  com- 
panions suffered.  Sestrina  heard  him  give  a  sigh  of 
relief  as  he  stood  there  and  watched.  She  guessed  not 
why  he  sighed  so.  Sestrina  was  only  an  inexperienced 
girl  after  all.  In  the  first  thrill  of  excitement  and  hope 
over  sighting  that  little  blue  blotch  on  the  skyline,  she 
had  wondered  if  it  might  not  be  the  shores  of  Hawaii — 
Honolulu !  Poor  Sestrina  ! 

Ere  the  eastern  stars  had  begun  to  bespangle  the 
heavens,  Hawahee  lifted  his  hands  and  murmured  a 
hasty  prayer  to  Kuahilo  and  the  great  Hawaiian 
goddess  Pele.  For  he  had  distinctly  made  out  a  lonely 
isle.  There  it  was,  far  away  to  the  south-west,  the 
foams  of  the  beating  seas  that  swept  over  its  coral 
reefs  distinctly  visible.  He  was  saved  !  The  hands  of 
wrathful  men  would  not  grip  him  and  his  comrades 
and  place  gyves  on  their  limbs.  He  would  yet  enjoy 
the  freedom  of  the  hills  before  the  pollution  of  his  mortal 
tenement  made  him  cry  to  God  out  of  the  greatest 
sorrow  that  can  well  come  to  men  in  this  world.  And, 
as  the  Hawaiian  reflected,  he  beckoned  to  Sestrina. 

"  Yes,  Hawahee  ?  "  she  said  timidly,  as  she  gazed 
up  into  his  handsome  face  in  wonder,  watching  his  eyes 
from  some  dread  of  her  own  mind.  The  fact  is,  that 
she  knew  not  whether  the  proximity  of  the  isle  was  a 
blessing  to  Hawahee,  or  whether  he  would  attempt  to 
alter  the  course  of  the  schooner  so  that  he  and  his  com- 
rades could  risk  the  horrors  of  the  ocean  rather  than 
fall  into  the  hands  of  their  fellow-men  again. 

To  the  girl's  delight,  he  looked  kindly  upon  her,  and 
said,  "  Go  thou,  my  child,  into  the  cuddy,  and  bring 


154  SESTRINA 

unto  me  all  those  old  ropes  that  we  have  stored  in 
readiness  for  such  a  pass  as  this." 

The  ocean  swell  was  still  heavy,  so  heavy  that  it  often 
lifted  the  schooner  up  on  her  beam  ends.  Hawahee 
knew  that  if  the  Belle  Isle  struck  the  reefs  of  that  far- 
away isle's  shore  and  so  became  solid  with  the  land, 
the  seas  would  dash  over  her  and  sweep  them  all  away. 

"  Wahine,  keep  near  me,"  he  said,  as  he  ran  about, 
making  hasty  preparations  for  the  coming  shock.  All 
the  while  Hawahee  was  making  these  preparations,  the 
stricken  lepers  were  standing  by  the  bulwark  side,  beat- 
ing their  hands  and  chanting  in  a  strange  way.  Two  of 
the  blind  men  seemed  to  be  demented,  for  they  began 
to  jump  about  and  dance  in  a  grotesque  manner  on  the 
deck. 

"  Rohana,  Steno  and  Lupo  !  "  called  Hawahee. 

In  a  moment  the  three  men  stood  by  his  side. 

"  Go  thou  to  the  helm  and  do  your  best  to  keep  the 
ship's  course  so  that  she  might  run  ashore  on  the  low 
sands  of  the  isle,  where  the  waters  do  not  send  up  such 
cataracts  of  spray,  see  ?  " 

Saying  this,  he  pointed  to  the  far-away  isle.  And 
there,  true  enough,  Rohana  and  Sestrina  stared  and 
saw  that  one  part  of  the  shore  was  quite  visible,  even 
the  palms  just  inland  in  clear  relief,  because  no  showers 
of  flying  spray  dimmed  the  atmosphere.  The  Belle  Isle 
was  so  near  the  land  that  they  could  plainly  see  the 
white  lines  of  the  rolling  surfs  as  the  big  ocean  swell 
rolled  up  the  shores,  caught  the  barrier  reefs,  and  re- 
bounded in  mighty  showers  that  glittered  in  the  dusk. 
Then  a  pale  radiance  swept  right  across  the  Pacific 
Ocean  and  dispelled  the  deeper  night  shadows. 

"  'Tis  good  ;  the  moon  is  up.  Langi  has  sent  light 
for  us,"  murmured  Hawahee,  as  he  stared  seaward, 
where  the  swollen  moonrise  looked  like  a  big  haggard 
face  peering  in  some  anxiety  over  the  horizon  of  the  hot 
tropic  night  sea.  The  lepers  had  already  constructed 
a  large  raft,  making  it  out  of  the  wooden  gratings  and 


SESTRINA  155 

the  doors  of  the  galley  and  the  cuddy.  By  the  side  of 
this  raft  stood  the  more  helpless  lepers  waiting  to  be 
lashed  on  to  it  so  that  they  would  not  be  washed  away 
when  the  final  crash  came.  It  was  strange  how  those 
afflicted  men  clung  to  each  other  and  went  to  an  infinite 
amount  of  trouble  to  help  their  more  helpless  fellows. 
But  still,  they  did  go  to  the  trouble,  and  it  must  be 
supposed  that  the  love  of  men  for  one  another  is  a 
greater  virtue  in  sorrow  than  in  the  flush  of  perfect  joy 
and  health. 

"  All  is  ready,  Wahine ;  do  not  fear,"  whispered 
Hawahee  as  he  approached  Sestrina,  and  then  crept 
back  into  the  shadows  to  watch.  The  wonder  and 
mystery  of  it  all  almost  drowned  Sestrina's  fears  as 
she  stared  over  the  bulwark.  She  saw  the  lonely  isle, 
distant  palm-clad  hills,  and  all  the  silvered  waves 
tumbling,  as  though  silently,  in  the  moonlight  as  they 
broke  over  the  shore  reefs  and  sent  up  glimmering  foun- 
tains of  spray.  Rohana,  who  had  black  shaggy  hair,  and 
looked  like  some  handsome  wild  man,  crept  near  the  girl 
and  stared  over  the  side  as  Hawahee  stood  in  prayer  in 
the  shadows. 

"  Listen,  Wahine !  "  he  said.  And  as  Rohana  inclined 
his  head,  Sestrina  inclined  her  head  also.  They  could 
both  distinctly  hear  the  far-off  boom  and  low  monotone 
made  by  the  big  white-ridged  combers  as  they  met  the 
shore  of  the  isle  and  rebounded  on  the  outer  reefs.  It 
was  then  that  Hawahee  approached  Sestrina  again. 

"  Keep  near  me,  Wahine,"  he  said,  as  he  put  on  an 
old  glove  (he  had  found  it  in  the  cuddy),  so  that  he 
might  grip  hold  of  Sestrina  without  fear  of  the  con- 
tagion of  the  leprosy  reaching  her.  Hawahee's  eyes 
were  full  of  tenderness  as  he  gazed  on  the  lonely  girl  as 
she  stood  there,  hope  shining  in  her  eyes,  her  unkempt 
mass  of  hair  streaming  out  to  the  wind.  Hawahee  saw 
that  she  did  not  realise  the  approaching  danger.  It  was 
a  picture  full  of  beauty  and  tragedy  as  she  stood  there. 
The  fluttering  dishevelment  of  her  torn  dress  and  the 


156  SESTRINA 

dark  rings  formed  by  worry  round  her  eyes,  the  lines  of 
sorrow  on  her  brow,  intensified  the  girl's  beauty,  and 
touched  the  Hawaiian's  heart.  Sestrina  heard  him  sigh. 

"  Don't  move,"  said  Hawahee  ;  "  keep  quite  near  me, 
Sestra,"  for  so  he  had  called  her  since  she  had  told  him 
her  name  that  day. 

As  they  stood  on  deck,  the  moon,  low  on  the  horizon, 
was  just  behind  them.  They  could  distinctly  see  the 
shore's  outline  and  the  showers  of  foam  rise  and  curl, 
and  disappear  in  the  gloom. 

"  Hark !  "  said  Sestrina ;  and  as  she  and  Hawahee 
listened  they  distinctly  heard  the  sea-winds  moan  as 
they  swept  through  the  rows  of  shore  palms. 

"  Aue !  Lo  mao  sapola ! "  said  Hawahee,  as  he 
beckoned  to  Rohana  and  Lupo. 

The  next  moment  the  lepers  had  rushed  to  the  raft. 
Then  the  crash  came.  The  Belle  Isle  had  struck  broad- 
side on  the  reefs  in  rather  deep  water.  In  a  second  the 
great  seas  came  ramping  over  the  side  like  huge  monsters 
with  slashing  mains,  crashed  on  deck  and  then  leapt 
right  over  to  the  port  side.  The  lepers  had  just  managed 
to  cling  on  to  the  raft  when  it  was  washed  away  over 
the  side,  going  with  ease  over  the  rail,  which  was  level 
with  the  seas.  Sestrina,  who  had  expected  the  schooner 
to  run  softly  on  the  beach  and  so  allow  them  all  to 
paddle  safely  ashore,  or  at  least  go  in  the  schooner's 
broken  boat,  gave  a  scream  in  her  fright  as  the  seas 
crashed  on  board.  The  terrific  tumult,  the  swaying 
and  moaning  and  snapping  of  the  spars,  and  the  chaotic 
ramping  of  the  foaming  waters  around  her,  made 
Sestrina  think  that  a  typhoon  had  struck  the  Bette  Isle 
without  the  slightest  warning.  The  next  minute 
Hawahee  had  clutched  the  frightened  girl  in  his  arms. 
A  tremendous  swell  wave  struck  the  Belle  Isle — they 
were  both  washed  away. 

"Have  no  fear,  Wahine,"  said  Hawahee,  as  he  re- 
covered his  breath,  and  held  the  girl's  head  above  the 
water,  placing  one  arm  under  her  body.  "  Let  go, 


SESTRINA  157 

quick,  Wahine !  "  lie  gasped,  as  Sestrina  in  her  terror 
gripped  his  swimming  arm.  Again  they  were  engulfed, 
a  iea  passing  right  over  their  heads.  Sestrina  thought 
her  last  moment  had  come.  She  gave  a  despairing  cry 
as  she  came  to  the  surface,  and  then  prepared  to  go 
under  again.  It  seemed  to  her  that  Hawahee  had  let 
go  his  hold  as  a  great  wave  engulfed  them,  and  she  fell 
down,  down,  into  the  blackness  of  the  ocean.  Her  con- 
sciousness began  to  fade.  She  felt  herself  being  slowly 
dragged  along.  She  imagined  that  she  was  at  the 
bottom  of  the  Pacific  and  that  some  dark,  terrible, 
silent  form  was  dragging  her  along,  and  at  the  same  time 
placing  soft  arms  round  her  throat  in  an  attempt  to 
strangle  her.  Sestrina's  delight  can  be  imagined  when 
she  opened  her  eyes  and  discovered  Hawahee  frantically 
pulling  her  up  the  wave-ridden  beach.  She  was  saved  ! 
Sestrina,  who  had  swallowed  a  deal  of  sea-water,  imme- 
diately lost  consciousness.  Hawahee  lifted  her  in  his 
arms  and  carried  her  up  the  beach.  In  a  few  moments 
he  had  gathered  a  heap  of  the  dry,  soft,  drift  seaweed 
scattered  about  the  higher  shore,  and  had  placed  her 
on  a  soft  couch  under  the  palms.  For  a  long  time  he 
rubbed  her  hands  and  did  all  he  could  to  revive  the 
insensible  girl. 

"  0  Kuahilo  !  0  Pele  !  "  he  cried  as  he  appealed  to 
his  old  gods,  and  then  stared  again  on  the  girl's  pallid 
face  that  looked  pathetically  beautiful  lying  there  up- 
turned, just  visible  in  the  moonlight  which  streamed 
through  the  palms. 

In  his  despair  he  unloosed  her  bodice.  "  Ora  li 
Jesu ! "  he  cried,  as  he  appealed  to  the  new  God  of  the 
mission-rooms,  and  softly  rubbed  away  at  the  girl's 
bosom,  just  above  the  heart.  Just  as  he  was  thinking 
that  Sestrina  had  succumbed  to  her  long  submersion  in 
the  water,  she  opened  her  eyes.  In  his  delight,  Hawahee 
rose  from  his  knees,  and  lifting  his  hands  towards"  the 
sky,  mumbled  some  strange  chant-like  prayer  to  his 
heathen  deities.  For,  as  is  often  the  case  with  the 


158  SESTRINA 

Hawaiians  who  have  been  converted  to  Christianity, 
Hawahee  in  his  sorrow  and  great  joy  had  instinctively 
fallen  back  to  the  older  faith,  had  appealed  to  the  gods 
of  his  childhood.  With  infinite  care  and  tenderness 
Hawahee  pulled  the  folds  of  the  girl's  bodice  together 
again  and  arranged  her  clothing.  Sestrina's  wakeful 
brain  noticed  these  things,  and  she  looked  into  Hawa- 
hee's  face  and  smiled. 

"  All  is  well ;  you  are  safe,  Wahine,"  he  muttered. 
Then  he  left  her  and  hurried  down  to  the  beach  to  see 
how  it  fared  with  his  comrades.  No  sooner  was  he  out 
of  sight  than  Sestrina  sat  up  and  stared  around  her. 
Her  brain  was  the  swift-seeing,  imaginative  kind.  As 
she  looked  towards  the  distant  moonlit  seas  and  heard 
the  palms  sighing  over  her  head,  a  cruel  flash  of  intense 
realisation  came  to  her. 

'  'Tis  an  isle  where  no  one  lives.  I  am  cast  away, 
lost  for  ever.  I  will  never  see  him  or  those  I  love  again. 
Royal !  come  to  me  !  Claircine,  dear  old  Claircine,  where 
are  you  ?  "  In  the  bitterness  of  her  thoughts  her  mind 
reverted  to  Pere  Chaco.  "  0  Pere  Chaco,  what  have  I 
done  that  this  should  happen  to  me  ?  '  As  we  sow,  so 
shall  we  reap,'  you  said  to  me.  0  Pere  Chaco,  have 
mercy  on  me !  What  have  I  sown  ?  "  And  as  the 
miserable  girl  wailed  and  reflected,  she  stared  over  her 
shoulder  in  fright  at  the  seas  as  they  rushed  up  the 
beach.  Then  a  great  weariness  came  to  her  brain.  In 
the  misery  and  confusion  of  her  senses  she  began  to  think 
that  she  was  haunting  the  realms  of  some  nightmare 
from  which  she  must  soon  awaken.  But  the  terrors  of 
reality  soon  presented  themselves  to  her.  For  she 
looked  along  the  shore  and  saw  a  tall  figure  dragging 
helpless  bodies  out  of  reach  of  the  waves.  It  was 
Hawahee  doing  his  best  to  save  his  comrades  from  the 
ocean.  Out  of  the  nine  lepers  only  five  were  saved — 
Rohana,  Lupo,  Steno,  and  two  blind  men.  Hawahee 
had  found  them  huddled  on  the  shore,  quite  exhausted. 
He  had  swiftly  dragged  them  higher  up  the  beach  and 


SESTRINA  159 

placed  them  in  a  comfortable  spot  in  the  thick  grass  and 
fern  by  the  shore's  sheltering  palms.  The  bodies  which 
Sestrina  had  seen  Hawahee  dragging  from  the  sea  were 
dead.  In  a  few  moments  the  Hawaiian  had  placed  them 
in  a  silent  spot  by  the  high  reefs  ready  for  burial.  Then 
he  came  back  to  Sestrina's  side. 

**  Wahine,  you  have  sorrow  on  your  face,  and  there  is 
nothing  to  grieve  over  now  if  you  have  true  faith  in 
your  White  God,  the  same  as  I  have  in  my  country's 
gods."  So  spoke  Hawahee,  but  for  all  his  kind  words  and 
great  mental  effort  to  cheer  Sestrina,  he  was  weak  and 
ill  and,  giving  way  to  his  sorrow,  prostrated  himself 
on  the  shore  and  wept. 

"  I  will  be  brave  since  you  have  been  so  good  and 
brave  yourself,"  whispered  Sestrina,  as  she  gazed  on 
the  bowed  head  of  the  strange  semi-savage  man  beside 
her.  Hawahee  at  once  recovered  his  composure.  He 
hung  his  head  like  a  big  child  for  a  moment  as  though 
he  felt  shame  that  Sestrina  should  have  seen  his  tears. 

"  See,  I  do  not  worry,  Hawahee,"  said  Sestrina,  as 
she  smiled,  and  then,  taking  a  comb  from  her  pocket, 
she  began  to  comb  the  tangled  folds  of  her  damp  tresses. 

"Ah,  wahine,  thou  art  brave  and  deserve  a  better 
fate  than  this,"  murmured  Hawahee  as,  with  his  chin 
resting  on  his  hand,  he  watched  the  girl.  And  still 
Sestrina  combed  away  at  her  shining  tresses,  as  they 
fell  like  a  magical  glossy  tent  over  her  shoulders,  while 
she  sang  an  old  Haytian  melody. 

Neither  Hawahee  or  Sestrina  remembered  the  moment 
when  sleep  lulled  their  exhausted  mind  and  body  to 
rest.  They  must  have  slept  two  or  three  hours,  for 
when  Sestrina  opened  her  eyes  the  stars  had  begun  to 
take  flight.  The  terrors  of  the  night  had  been  too  cruel 
to  make  her  think  she  had  awakened  from  a  dream. 
In  a  moment  she  had  realised  everything.  She  even 
gazed  calmly  upward  and  tried  to  see  the  birds  that  sang 
so  weirdly  sweet  in  the  palms  overhead.  Dawn  was 
stealing  over  the  ocean.  For  a  moment  she  stared  at 


160  SESTRINA 

the  ocean  skyline.  Out  beyond  the  just  visible  reefs 
lay  the  wreck  of  the  Belle  Isle.  The  hull  lay  right  over, 
the  broken  masts  and  spars  pointed  or  leaning  shore- 
ward. In  the  calm  waters  that  were  surrounded  by 
reefs,  she  saw  two  floating  dark  forms.  She  saw  the 
ghastly  death-stricken  face  of  one  of  the  forms  as  the 
head  bobbed  about,  the  body  turning  round  and  round 
to  the  slight  swell  of  the  water  that  heaved  against  the 
barrier  reef  beyond. 

"  Come  away,  wahine.  I  will  place  the  dead  to 
rest." 

It  was  Hawahee  who  spoke.  He  had  suddenly 
awakened  and  found  Sestrina  standing  beside  him, 
staring  at  the  dead  bodies  of  the  lepers.  They  had 
drifted  in  during  the  night. 

"  Come  on,  Sestra,"  said  the  man.  His  voice 
was  full  of  tenderness.  The  weeping  girl  followed  him 
up  the  beach.  In  a  few  minutes  they  found  a  comfort- 
able spot  under  the  shades  of  the  thick  groves  of  bread- 
fruit trees.  "  Here  will  do,  wahine,"  said  Hawahee,  as 
he  looked  up  at  the  beautiful  trees  that  spread  their 
wealth  of  yellowing  fruit  amongst  the  rich  glossy  leaves. 
It  was  a  beautiful  spot.  Even  the  bright-plumaged 
birds  that  haunted  them  seemed  to  welcome  those  sad 
strangers  from  the  seas.  "  Chir-rip  !  cheer-up  !  "  they 
seemed  to  say,  as  Hawahee  and  Sestrina  gazed  up  at  the 
fruit-loaded  boughs  that  hung  over  them,  so  green  and 
bright  in  the  infinite  loveliness  of  Dame  Nature's  un- 
ostentatious hospitality. 

"  Here  is  food,  wahine,  and  there  is  drink,"  said 
Hawahee,  as  he  gazed  first  on  the  yellowing  bread- 
fruit and  then  at  the  tall  palms,  on  which  hung  tawny 
clusters  of  ripening  coco-nuts. 

"  Wait,  wahine,  till  I  return,"  said  the  Hawaiian. 
In  a  few  moments  he  returned  with  a  great  armful  of 
soft  seaweed  and  moss.  "  Lie  there  and  rest,"  he  said 
to  Sestrina.  Then  the  Hawaiian  went  down  to  the 
beach  and,  wading  out  to  the  deep  water,  dragged  the 


SESTRINA  161 

bodies  of  the  two  dead  lepers  ashore.  In  a  few  moments 
he  had  dug  a  deep  hole  in  the  soft  sand  where  the  waters 
rolled  up  the  beach  by  the  promontory.  When  he  had 
placed  the  bodies  in  the  hollow  he  got  several  large 
lumps  of  coral  rock  and  dropped  them  over  the  spot,  so 
that  when  the  tides  were  high  the  waters  would  not 
wast  the  sands  away.  Then  he  bathed  himself  in  the 
cool  sea  water.  After  that  he  gathered  fruits  and  coco- 
nut and  took  them  to  the  lepers,  but  they  took  no  notice 
of  him,  being  fast  asleep,  exhausted.  Hawahee  was 
delighted  when  he  found  a  large  slope  whereon  grew 
wild  feis  (bananas).  Gathering  the  luscious  fruit,  he 
hastened  back  to  Sestrina,  and  told  her  to  eat  and  drink. 
The  shipwrecked  girl  felt  greatly  revived  when  she  had 
eaten  the  wild  feis  and  had  drunk  refreshing  coco-nut 
milk.  As  the  sun  climbed  high  in  the  heaven  and 
blazed  over  the  tropic  seas  and  the  innumerable  birds  of 
the  isle  shrieked  and  sang,  Sestrina  felt  less  depressed. 
It  was  only  when  she  followed  Hawahee  across  the 
valley  and  caught  sight  of  the  huddled  forms  of  the  poor 
lepers,  that  her  mind  became  darkened  again.  Lupo 
and  Rohana  stirred  in  their  slumber,  and  then  suddenly 
sat  up. 

"  Aloah,  wahine,"  they  murmured,  as  they  caught 
sight  of  the  girl,  and  smiled. 

Sestrina  nodded,  and  wondered  why  the  stricken  men 
should  look  so  cheerful  in  such  a  pass.  She  could  not 
realise  how  thankful  the  lepers  felt  to  their  gods  in 
having  the  freedom  of  that  little  island  world  before  them. 

"  Come  away,"  said  Hawahee.  Then  he  led  Sestrina 
back  to  the  shelter  beneath  the  bread-fruits.  "  You  lie 
down  here  and  rest,  Sestra,  and  I  will  watch  over  you," 
he  said,  as  he  gazed  sorrowfully  on  the  girl's  haggard 
face.  Though  Sestrina  did  not  feel  like  sleeping,  she 
did  as  the  man  bade  her.  Lying  down  on  the  soft  moss 
couch  that  he  had  prepared,  she  soon  fell  asleep.  While 
she  lay  there  Hawahee  sat  by  her  side  in  deep  medita- 
tion, making  plans  as  to  the  best  thing  to  do. 


162  SESTRINA 

"  If  there  is  no  one  on  this  isle  to  interfere  with  us, 
we  can  easily  build  a  dwelling-place  under  these  trees," 
he  thought.  Then  he  too  fell  asleep.  The  sun  was 
sinking  when  Sestrina  awoke.  The  dismal  mutterings 
of  the  cockatoos  in  the  boughs  around  swiftly  called 
her  to  her  senses.  She  felt  so  wretched  and  lonely  that 
she  touched  Hawahee,  who  still  lay  fast  asleep  beside 
her,  on  the  arm.  In  a  moment  he  sat  up,  and,  rubbing 
his  eyes,  stared  in  sorrow  on  the  girl. 

"  Let  us  go  and  see  how  big  this  isle  is,  and  find  out 
if  we  are  quite  alone  here,  wahine,"  he  said.  Hawahee's 
suggestion  that  they  should  explore  the  isle  together 
pleased  Sestrina. 

"  Perhaps,  after  all,  there  are  other  human  beings 
here,"  she  thought. 

When  they  had  reached  the  top  of  the  hill,  which  was 
the  highest  elevation  of  the  isle,  they  scanned  the  shore 
lines  and  saw  that  they  were  indeed  alone,  no  sign  of 
human  habitation  anywhere.  It  was  a  small  isle,  not 
more  than  a  mile  across,  and  two  miles  in  length.  Ses- 
trina could  not  help  but  gaze  in  admiration  on  the  love- 
liness of  the  scene  around  her.  All  along  the  shores 
stood  clusters  of  feathery-leafed  palms  that  leaned  over 
small  lagoons  that  shone  like  mirrors  in  the  shadowy 
distances.  Tiny  waves,  creeping  in  from  the  ocean's 
calm  expanse,  ran  up  the  silvery  sands,  tossed  their 
snowy  arms  and  faded.  On  all  the  higher  slopes,  about 
fifty  yards  inland,  stood  the  picturesque  breadfruit 
trees.  And  when  the  hot,  soft  sea  wind  drifted  inland 
and  touched  their  heights,  the  rich,  dark  green  leaves 
stirred  and  revealed  the  paler  hues  underneath  as  they 
were  softly  blown  aside.  As  Sestrina  and  Hawahee 
stood  up  there  and  scanned  the  dim  blue  horizons,  they 
felt  the  vast  loneliness  of  the  Pacific  enter  their  hearts. 
To  the  left,  far  beyond  the  promontory,  north  of  the 
island,  lay  the  wreck  of  the  Belle  Isle.  The  sight  of  the 
torn  sails  and  rigging,  which  was  still  flapping  softly  in 
the  breeze,  intensified  the  loneliness  of  the  surroundings. 


SESTRINA  163 

"  Wait,  Sestra,  let  us  be  sure,"  said  Hawahee,  then 
he  climbed  the  nearest  breadfruit  tree. 

For  a  long  time  he  stood  up  in  the  leafy  heights 
clinging  to  the  boughs,  scanning  the  isle,  and  staring 
out  to  sea.  Then  he  climbed  down,  and  standing  by 
Sestjina,  said  :  "  We  are  safe,  and  there  is  no  other  land 
in  sight." 

In  one  sad  mental  flash  Sestrina  realised  her  terrible 
position  to  the  full.  She  realised  that  the  greater  the 
solitude  of  the  isle  the  greater  security  it  afforded  the 
hunted  lepers. 

Hawahee  noticed  the  despairing  look  on  Sestrina's 
face  ;  and  swiftly  divining  her  thoughts,  said  :  "  Wa- 
hine,  a  ship  may  pass  some  day,  and  then,  believe  me, 
'tis  we  can  hide,  my  comrades  and  I.  And  those  who 
come  and  rescue  you  will  not  know  that  we  are  here, 
savvy,  wahine  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  understand  what  you  mean,"  murmured 
Sestrina  as  she  stared  out  to  sea,  and  let  her  eyes  roam 
over  the  vast  solitude  of  waters.  Tears  dimmed  her 
yearning  gaze.  She  instinctively  knew  that  it  might 
be  months,  even  years  before  a  ship  sighted  the  isle  and 
sent  men  ashore  to  search. 

Seeing  the  girl's  grief,  Hawahee  gazed  mournfully 
upon  her  and  said  :  "  Have  no  fear,  Sestra,  I  will  be  a 
friend  to  thee." 

Then  they  both  walked  back  to  the  sheltered  spot 
which  Hawahee  had  chosen  by  the  shore. 

The  next  day,  Hawahee  and  his  comrades,  Rohana, 
Lupo,  and  Steno,  made  many  journeys  over  the  reefs, 
and  then  swam  out  to  the  wreck  of  the  Belle  Isle, 

The  sea  had  calmed  down,  and  only  a  few  waves 
dashed  against  the  seaward  hulk  as  the  swell  came  in. 
In  a  very  little  while  they  had  fashioned  a  substantial 
raft  from  the  wreckage  on  the  shore.  And  all  day  long 
they  worked  feverishly  as  they  salvaged  cases  of  tin 
meats,  fruits  and  biscuits,  and  all  the  useful  commo- 
dities that  they  could  get  hold  of  before  the  Belle  Isle 


164  SESTRINA 

broke  up.  Two  or  three  hours  before  the  tropic  sun 
dropped,  Hawahee  and  his  comrades  searched  the  shore 
for  a  suitable  spot,  and  then  decided  to  build  a  dwelling 
by  the  caves,  not  far  from  the  place  where  they  had  been 
washed  ashore.  And  so  they  at  once  extemporised  a 
rough  dwelling  for  themselves.  And  while  the  stronger 
lepers  were  busy,  Hawahee  walked  inland,  and  chose  a 
shady  place,  about  one  hundred  yards  inland,  for 
Sestrina's  home. 

"  'Tis  a  lovely  spot,  Sestra,"  said  Hawahee  as  he  put 
in  the  first  posts,  and  gazed  on  the  sheltering  palms  and 
the  sylvan  beauty  of  the  valley  which  ran  half  way  down 
the  centre  of  the  isle.  This  valley  had  rugged  sides  and 
caves  which  showed  that  the  isle  was  of  volcanic  for- 
mation. Between  the  spot  which  Hawahee  had  chosen 
for  Sestrina's  home,  and  the  dwelling  place  of  the  lepers 
was  a  wide  hollow  in  which  grew  huge  cacti  and  prickly 
pear.  Hawahee  had  carefully  chosen  this  spot  so  that 
the  girl  should  be  quite  apart  from  the  lepers.  "  Is  it 
not  a  lovely  spot,  wahine  ?  "  said  he. 

"  Yes,  it  is,"  murmured  Sestrina  as  she  sighed,  yet 
trying  hard  to  appear  enthusiastic  over  the  rich  love- 
liness of  the  tropical  flowers,  and  palms  and  breadfruits 
that  surrounded  her  new  home. 

In  about  a  week,  they  were  all  settled  in  their  rough 
habitations,  and  as  comfortable  as  could  be  under  the 
circumstances,  Sestrina's  abode  was  all  which  could 
be  desired,  for  Hawahee  had  fashioned  a  soft  bed  of  fern, 
seaweed  and  scented  moss.  He  had  fashioned  a  door 
to  her  habitation  out  of  the  cuddy's  door  of  the  Belle 
Isle.  He  had  made  strong  hinges  out  of  the  twisted 
sennet  so  that  the  door  could  swing  and  be  closed  just 
as  Sestrina  desired.  A  few  yards  from  the  Haytian  girl's 
homestead  stood  Hawahee's  dwelling. 

'  'Tis  best,  Sestra,  that  I  should  dwell  near  to  you," 
said  he,  as  Sestrina  became  quite  industrious,  and  kept 
arriving  by  the  busy  Hawaiian,  her  arms  full  of  stiff 
grass  and  weed  that  he  was  thatching  his  roof  with.  He 


SESTRINA  165 

had  thatched  her  dwelling  very  carefully.  Hawahee 
knew  that  a  strong  thatch  was  necessary,  for  typhoons 
and  heavy  rains  often  swept  those  sailless  seas. 

Sestrina  would  often  lie  sleepless  by  night  in  her 
primitive  chamber  and  weep.  She  would  listen  to  the 
voices  of  the  night,  the  winds  sighing  in  the  palms,  and 
in  strange  fancies  imagine  that  Royal  Clensy's  spirit 
called  to  her.  Sometimes  the  rustling  of  the  leaves 
would  bring  back  memories  of  the  grape-vine  that  grew 
below  her  chamber's  window  at  Port-au-Prince.  The 
haunting  idea  that  her  English  lover  might  think  that 
she  had  made  no  attempt  to  get  to  Honolulu  brought 
great  distress  to  her. 

"  Ah,  if  he  only  knew  the  truth,  I  could  bear  all  this," 
she  moaned  as  the  great  tropic  starry  nights  of  sleepless 
memory  divided  the  hot,  blue  tropic  days,  and  brought 
intense  loneliness  to  her  heart.  In  her  sorrow  she  re- 
verted to  the  pure  religion  of  her  childhood,  and  reaped 
much  consolation  therefrom.  It  was  quite  possible  that 
the  Hawaiian,  Hawahee,  had  inspired  her  to  seek  com- 
fort in  prayer.  For  Hawahee  was  a  fanatic  in  his  de- 
votion to  his  heathen  gods.  For  though  he  had  been 
converted  to  the  Christian  faith,  he  had  greater  faith  in 
the  deities  of  the  olden  times.  Like  many  of  the  native 
lepers,  he  had  become  very  devout  through  the  sure 
knowledge  that  his  days  were  numbered.  He  would 
kneel  under  the  palms  and  sometimes  pray  to  the  sun- 
set, singing  weird,  sweet  melodies  as  he  still  remained 
on  his  knees.  Sestrina  would  sit  by  him  on  these 
occasions,  her  hand  under  her  chin,  watching  him  like 
some  wondering,  wide-eyed  child. 

One  evening  as  the  sunset  swept  ineffable  hues  across 
the  great  storied  remote  window  of  Hawahee's  vast 
heathen  cathedral — the  western  sea  sky  line — Sestrina 
opened  her  eyes  in  unbounded  astonishment.  "  What's 
that !  "  she  cried  as  he  put  his  arm  forth,  and  muttered 
weird  words  to  an  image  which  he  held  in  his  hand. 

"  'Tis  a  vassal  of  the  great  goddess,  Pele  !  "   replied 


166  SESTRINA 

Hawahee,  as  he  held  the  image  close  to  Sestrina's  horri- 
fied looking  eyes — she  was  staring  on  the  ivory  idol 
which  the  aged,  (Jying  Chinaman  on  the  Belle  Isle  had 
worshipped  so  fervently !" 

The  sight  of  that  heathenish  relic,  and  of  Hawahee's 
reverent  attitude  before  its  wonderfully  carved  little 
face,  strangely  impressed  the  Haytian  girl's  mind.  A 
weird,  uncanny  kind  of  atmosphere  seemed  to  fall  over 
her  life,  filling  her  mind  with  superstitious  thoughts. 
The  strange,  long-necked  birds  that  perched  at  dawn 
on  the  palms  by  her  little  homestead,  no  longer  sang 
cheerful  notes,  but  muttered  dismal  chants  that  made 
her  frightened — of  she  knew  not  what !  But  in  a  day 
or  two  she  regained  the  cheerful  confidence  that  had  so 
helped  her  in  her  castaway  loneliness,  and  once  more 
sang  as  she  toiled  over  her  primitive  domestic  duties. 

One  day,  Hawahee  suddenly  approached  Sestrina, 
and  said,  "  Wahine,  do  not  roam  about  the  isle  unless 
I  am  near  you."  He  looked  troubled  as  he  placed  his 
hand  to  his  brow,  undecided  as  to  how  to  continue. 

Sestrina  wondered  why  he  should  fear  for  her  since 
they  were  castaways  on  an  uninhabited  isle.  "  Is  there 
a  sail  in  sight  ?  "  she  said,  a  great  hope  springing  into 
her  heart. 

"  No,  wahine,"  murmured  Hawahee,  still  gazing 
intently  at  the  girl's  face,  an  expression  in  his  eyes  as 
though  his  heart  wished  to  say  something  which  his  lips 
dare  not  express. 

Then  he  said  :  ' '  My  comrades  are  not  as  I  am  ;  they 
have  forgotten  the  virtues  of  the  great  goddess  Pele, 
and  of  Kauhilo,  and  Atua  of  Langi,  and  so,  'tis  best 
that  you  should  keep  from  their  path." 

Sestrina,  who  had  seldom  seen  the  lepers,  because 
the  sight  of  their  afflicted  forms  made  her  feel  miserable, 
gazed  in  wonder  up  at  Hawahee's  face.  The  five  lepers^ 
were,  to  her,  poor  helpless,  cursed,  pathetic  beings,  who 
calmly  awaited  the  second  death  of  their  mortal  exist- 
ence. Though  they  dwelt  within  five  hundred  yards 


SESTKINA  167 

of  her  homestead,  she  had  spoken  only  twice  to  them 
as  they  sat  in  the  wattled  shelter,  and  as  the  two  blind 
lepers  gazed  with  pathetic  indecision  towards  her,  a 
great  wave  of  pain  and  sympathy  had  come  to  her  heart. 

Then  Lupo,  Rohana,  and  Steno  had  fallen  on  their 
knees,  and,  with  their  hands  lifted,  had  gazed  upon  her 
as  though  she  were  some  goddess.  And  as  they  wailed 
and  wailed  in  their  strange  but  musical  tongue  she 
imagined  they  were  thanking  her  for  her  timely  rescue 
of  them  all  from  the  Belle  Isle's  stifling  hold. 

"  They  look  upon  me  as  their  benefactress  ;  perhaps 
in  the  delirium  of  their  fevered  illness,  they  really  think 
I  am  some  heathen  goddess  ?  "  she  thought  as  Rohana 
and  Lupo  continued  to  wail,  and  crawling  a  little  nearer, 
pointed  to  her  shining  tresses,  murmured,  "  Aloah ! 
wahine,  makoa,  maikai !  "  Then  the  lepers  had  placed 
their  hands  to  their  swollen  mouths,  making  signs  as 
they  blew  kisses  to  her,  and  cried  "  Maika  !  maikai !  " 
(thank  you).  For  she  had  taken  a  flower  from  the  folds 
of  her  hair,  and  had  thrown  it  towards  them.  Seeing 
the  flower  lying  on  the  silver  sands,  Lupo,  Rohana  and 
Steno  had  rushed  forward,  had  started  struggling  in  a 
frantic  way  to  secure  the  fading  blossom.  When  Lupo 
placed  the  blossom  to  his  lips,  the  others  had  crowded 
round  him,  had  sought  to  place  their  lips  against  the 
faded  petals.  Such  had  been  Sestrina's  experiences 
with  the  lepers  during  three  months  of  isolation  on  that 
Pacific  isle.  When  Hawahee  stood  before  Sestrina  and 
gave  her  the  second  warning,  she  still  remained  ignorant 
of  the  meaning  of  it  all. 

Three  nights  after,  Sestrina  was  suddenly  awakened 
by  hearing  a  distant  hubbub  that  sounded  as  though 
men  were  singing  rollicking  songs.  "  What  can  it 
mean  ?  "  she  thought  as  she  leaped  from  her  couch. 
Her  heart  thumped  as  she  listened  and  wondered.  "  'Tis 
a  ship  arrived  off  the  isle,  and  the  sailors  are  ashore, 
singing !  " 

*'  Keep  near  me,"  said  a  stern  voice,  as  she  rushed 


168  SESTRINA 

from  her  dwelling  to  ascertain  if  her  surmises  were  true. 
It  was  Hawahee  who  had  spoken. 

Sestrina  gazed  at  him,  and  was  alarmed  at  the  ex- 
pression of  his  eyes. 

"  'Tis  Lupo,  Rohana  and  the  rest,  they  have  been 
out  to  the  wreck,  and  found  barrels  of  devil- water  (rum) ; 
they  are  demented,  wahine." 

"  Rum  !  demented  !  "  replied  Sestrina  as  her  heart 
sank  within  her.  No  ship  at  all,  but  rum  and  de- 
mented !  What  did  Hawahee  mean  ?  The  girl  did 
not  realise  the  serious  import  of  the  Hawaian's  remarks. 
She  had  no  familiar  knowledge  of  men,  and  the  de- 
moralising influence  of  drink  on  their  natures.  And  so 
she  dreamed  not  of  her  danger,  she,  a  lonely  woman,  on 
that  solitary  isle. 

During  the  lepers  stay  on  the  isle  their  health  had 
improved.  The  abundance  of  shell  fish,  the  fruit  and 
tinned  meats,  saved  from  the  wreck,  had  renovated  their 
wasted  frames.  Lupo  and  Rohana  had  even  made  flesh, 
and  so  their  smouldering  passions  had  burst  into  flame 
again !  Indeed,  but  a  day  or  two  before,  Rohana  and 
Lupo  had  crept  round  the  shore,  and  spied  Sestrina 
bathing  in  a  lagoon. 

They  had  watched,  and  then  hastened  back  to  their 
comrades  and  cried  in  this  wise  :  "Oh  makaia,  le 
sola !  "  and  then  the  three  stronger  men  had  crept 
back  into  the  jungle  on  the  shore,  and  had  watched. 
That  same  night  they  had  talked  about  what  they  had 
seen,  till  even  the  blind  lepers  had  listened  in  ecstasy  as 
their  comrades  spoke  of  the  girl's  beauty,  the  glory  of 
her  wet  tresses  as  they  sparkled  in  the  warm  sunlight. 

Hawahee,  who  knew  these  things,  attemptedcto  calm 
Ssstrina's  fears  by  saying,  "  Do  not  be  alarmed  by  the 
singing  of  my  brothers,  I  will  protect  you." 

And  then  she  had  gone  back  into  her  hut,  and  had 
lain  sleepless,  weeping  bitterly,  for  her  hopes  had  been 
cruelly  dispelled.  The  next  night  she  was  awakened 
again  by  hearing  a  wild  song.  Again  she  jumped  from 


SESTRINA  169 

her  bed,  and  went  outside,  but  this  time  she  trembled 
in  the  thought  of  some  nameless  fear.  As  she  stood 
under  the  palms  by  her  lonely  homestead  doorway,  she 
saw  a  great  red  glow  on  the  sky  over  the  sta. 

"  'Tis  the  wreck  on  fire,"  said  Hawahee  as  he  stood 
beside  her.  For  he  was  ever  wakeful. 

*'  Why  have  they  set  the  ship  on  fire  ?  "  said  Sestrina 
as  she  stood  watching  the  sparks  and  the  lurid  smoke 
go  skyward. 

"  They  are  mad  with  drink,  and  care  only  for  them- 
selves while  the  devil-gods  and  te  rom  (rum)  revel  in 
their  souls,"  said  Hawahee  in  a  bitter  voice.  Then  he 
told  Sestrina  that  they  had  fired  the  wreck  so  that  no 
passing  vessel  could  sight  it,  and  wonder  if  any  of  its 
late  crew  were  castaways  on  the  isle. 

Next  day,  Sestrina,  thinking  that  all  was  well  since 
the  lepers  had  burnt  the  wreck,  and  so  destroyed  the 
rum,  crept  down  to  the  lagoon  by  her  homestead,  where- 
in she  bathed  every  morning.  This  lagoon  was  far 
away  from  that  part  of  the  isle  where  Lupo  and  the 
rest  dwelt.  Letting  her  hair  down,  she  walked  into  the 
cool,  shallow  depths,  and  paddled  about.  She  behaved 
like  a  child.  Lifting  her  torn  skirt,  which  she  had  patched 
up  with  pieces  of  the  red  table-cloth  of  the  Belle  Isle 
cuddy,  she  splashed  about  in  the  sparkling  water  and 
threw  pebbles  at  the  green-winged  parrots  that  perched 
on  the  palms  that  leaned  over  the  lagoon.  Suddenly 
she  stood  perfectly  still ;  she  had  observed  a  move- 
ment in  the  thick  jungle  fern  which  grew  a  little  way  up 
the  shore.  She  stared  again,  and  saw  two  burning 
eyes  staring  between  the  dark  green  leaves.  She  gave 
a  startled  cry  and  let  her  dress  drop — it  was  Lupo  who 
had  spied  upon  her.  Seeing  her  terror  he  stepped  out 
of  £he  jungle,  lifting  his  hands  in  an  appealing  manner. 

Sestrina  immediately  felt  ashamed  of  her  fright. 
Noticing  that  he  had  calmed  the  girl's  evident  fear  of 
him,  Lupo  moved  towards  her.  As  he  approached  her 
she  fancied  she  saw  a  terrible  look  in  his  eyes.  The 


170  SESTRINA 

instinct  of  womanhood  made  her  realise — she  knew  not 
what.  In  a  flash  she  recalled  all  that  Hawahee  had  said. 

The  next  second  Lupo  had  fallen  on  his  knees,  and 
with  his  hands  lifted  in  some  appeal,  said  :  "  Aloah, 
wero,  kawa,  ma  Pele,"  as  he  greedily  drank  in  the  beauty 
of  her  face  and  form.  He  plucked  a  flower  from  the 
bush,  and  held  it  towards  the  girl. 

"  No  !  no  !  "  said  Sestrina  as  she  shook  her  head  to 
intimate  that  neither  his  gift  nor  his  presence  was 
required.  In  a  moment  Lupo's  manner  had  changed. 
He  glanced  hastily  around,  then  rose  and  staggered 
towards  her.  Sestrina,  on  seeing  the  wild  look  in  the 
leper's  eyes,  fled. 

Returning  to  her  primitive  homestead  with  a  flushed 
face,  and  the  sea-water  still  sparkling  on  her  tresses, 
she  arrived  before  Hawahee  in  a.  breathless  state. 

"  Wahine,  what  is  the  matter  ?  "  he  said  as  he  stared 
at  her. 

"  Nothing,  only  I  felt  frightened  at  seeing  Lupo  come 
out  of  the  jungle  whilst  I  bathed." 

"  Have  I  not  warned  thee  to  keep  near  to  me,  and  not 
wander  about  the  isle,  wahine  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  know,"  gasped  Sestrina,  her  breath  still 
laboured  through  running  so  fast. 

"  Hawahee,  what  do  the  lepers  want  with  me  ?  "  she 
said  quietly  in  sudden  wonder  over  all  she  had  ex- 
perienced. 

The  tall,  handsome  Hawaiian  gazed  steadily  into  the 
child-like,  wide-open  eyes,  and  seeing  that  the  girl  was 
innocent  in  heart  and  soul,  made  no  reply  to  her  query, 
but  said  :  "  Wahine,  I  shall  be  angry  if  you  stray  from 
here  again.  Mind  that  you  keep  on  this  side  of  the 
valley,  and  bathe  no  more  at  present." 

"  I  will  do  as  you  wish,"  replied  Sestrina,  who  put 
Hawahee's  fears  down  to  some  dread  in  his  mind  that 
she  might  be  contaminated  by  the  terrible  scourge. 

That  same  night  Hawahee  came  across  the  slope  and 
sat  by  Sestrina's  homestead,  telling  her  many  of  his  own 


SESTRINA  171 

sorrows,  and  how  it  was  he  had  become  incarcerated 
down  in  the  hold  of  the  Belle  Isle.  It  was  a  sad  story 
that  Sestrina  listened  to  as  the  Hawaiian  spoke  on, 
telling  her  many  things  about  the  horrors  of  leprosy  on 
his  native  isles.  Maybe  he  did  not  wish  Sestrina  to 
think  too  ill  of  his  comrades,  the  lepers  on  the  isle, 
whose  sad  lot  was  cast  on  the  unknown  waters  with  his 
own.  And  be  it  known  that  of  all  the  races  of  man- 
kind, the  Hawaiians  are  the  most  sympathetic  and 
lovable  towards  each  other  in  sorrow  or  illness,  their 
hearts  being  endowed  with  a  love  passing  the  love  of 
woman.  Indeed,  many  Hawaiians  have  been  known 
to  risk  the  contagion  of  leprosy  in  their  efforts  to  hide 
their  relatives,  wives,  children,  lovers  and  comrades, 
from  the  relentless  hands  of  the  leper-hunters,  who  were 
ever  on  the  look-out  for  the  victims  of  the  hideous 
scourge. 

Sestrina's  eyes  filled  with  tears  as  the  sad  man  sat 
before  her  and  told  her  of  the  terrors  of  Molokai,  the 
leper  isle,  the  sufferings  of  the  banished  victims  and  of 
the  heroic  priest  and  martyr,  Damien,  and  the  few 
Catholic  missionaries  who  devoted  their  days  and  sacri- 
ficed their  lives  for  the  sake  of  the  stricken  lepers. 

"  And  how  did  you  know  all  these  things  about  the 
terrible  isle  where  poor  lepers  are  banished  to,  since 
you  yourself  escaped  and  fled  successfully  from  the 
leper  hunters  ?  " 

Then  Hawahee  told  Sestrina  that  he  had  once  been 
a  resident  on  Molokai  in  the  capacity  of  a  missionary  at 
Kalawao,  and  it  was  there  that  he  had  contracted  the 
complaint,  as  well  as  becoming  only  too  familiar  with 
the  horror  of  the  dreadful  lazaretto.  Sitting  there 
smoking  by  the  lonely  girl,  he  continued  his  story,  and 
told  how  the  Hawaiian  officials  hired  brutal  men  to 
hunt  and  deliver  up  all  men  who  showed  the  least  sign 
of  the  dreaded  plague,  so  that  they  could  be  banished 
to  the  lazaretto  on  Molokai. 

From  all  that  Hawahee  said,  it  appeared  that  even 


172  SESTR1NA 

the  unafflicted  were  in  danger  of  being  captured  by  the 
merciless  hunters  and  sent  away  to  the  dreaded  isle. 
For  leprosy  develops  slowly,  the  first  symptoms  being 
extremely  faint,  taking  months,  and  even  years,  before 
becoming  externally  evident.  Consequently  the  brutal 
hunters,  who  sought  to  secure  the  reward  offered  by  the 
authorities,  were  only  too  eager  to  pronounce  the 
slightest  bruise  as  evidence  of  incipient  leprosy. 

"  Since  your  leprosy  is  hardly  to  be  seen  now,  how  is 
it  that  the  authorities  knew  anything  about  it,  Hawa- 
hee  ?  "  said  Sestrina. 

"  Ah,  wahine,  it  must  have  been  noticed  when  I  was 
bathing  in  the  lagoons  by  my  home.  You  must  know, 
wahine,  that  there  are  always  half-caste  men  on  my  isle 
willing  to  sacrifice  the  lives  of  others  for  the  sake  of 
getting  the  reward  which  is  paid  by  the  great  council 
chiefs,  and  so  I  too  was  betrayed.  And  when  the 
leper-hunters  did  come  one  night  through  the  forest 
with  masks  over  their  faces,  for  they  do  not  wish  their 
faces  seen  since  my  people  would  kill  such  perfidious 
betrayers  were  they  to  recognise  them,  I  did  escape 
into  the  mountains  by  Kaulea.  For  a  long,  long  time 
I  did  roam  homeless  alone,  then  I  met  more  lepers  who 
were  hiding  from  the  hunters  in  the  mountains.  We 
were  all  near  to  dying  of  hunger  when  we  at  last  sighted 
a  schooner  lying  just  off  the  shore  by  the  feet  of  the 
mountains  near  Sakaboa.  With  much  stealth  we  did 
manage  to  secure  a  large  canoe  so  that  we  could  paddle 
by  night  out  to  the  ship.  It  was  by  the  mercy  of  Atua 
and  Kuahilo  that  the  night  was  dark  and  hid  our  forms  as 
we  stole  on  board  and  crept  down  into  the  ship's  hold. 
Next  day  the  ship  sailed.  We  were  near  to  death  when 
we  did  find  ourselves  anchored  off  the  South  American 
coast,  where  we  were  discovered  by  the  crew  and  re- 
captured. Then  the  white  papalagis  tied  our  legs  and 
hands  in  thongs  and  placed  us  on  a  ship's  hulk  off  the 
coast,  as  men  unclean.  For  many  weeks  we  were 
prisoners,  awaiting  to  be  retransported  back  to  Hawaii 


SESTRINA  173 

sp  that  we  might  be  sent  to  Molokai.  Then  one  night 
some  men  did  come  and  place  our  limbs  in  chains. 
And  when  we  were  helpless  and  could  not  move  more 
than  enough  for  our  feet  to  move  slowly  one  before 
the  other,  we  were  taken  round  the  coast  to  Acapulco. 
There  we  found  a  boat  awaiting  our  arrival,  and  we 
were  at  once  taken  out  to  a  schooner,  which  we  knew 
was  to  take  us  back  to  Hawaii,  and  to  Molokai  and 
death."  Saying  the  foregoing,  the  Hawaian  sighed, 
then,  looking  sorrowfully  into  Sestrina's  face,  he  added  : 
"  It  was  the  Belle  Isle,  wahine,  which  we  were  taken 
to  and  imprisoned  down  in  the  hold  ;  and,  to 'thy  great 
sorrow,  thou  knowest  the  rest."  Relighting  his  cigarette 
by  the  embers  of  the  small  cooking  fire,  Hawahee  placed 
his  hand  meditatively  to  his  chin  and  continued  :  "  I 
tell  thee,  wahine,  I  would  sooner  meet  the  gods  in  death 
than  risk  capture  by  the  merciless  papalagi  or  my  own 
countryman  and  be  banished  to  the  lazaretto.  True 
enough,  the  '  kaukas '  (doctors)  are  good  to  the 
stricken,  and  kind  men  make  coffins  by  night  for  the 
dying,  but  still,  'tis  more  than  a  living  death.  Still, 
in  my  dreams,  I  do  often  see  the  skeletons  of  the  dead 
lepers  walking  and  crawling  by  night  along  the  craggy 
beach  and  under  the  dark  pandanus  and  palms  by 
Kalawao." 

As  Hawahee  spoke  on  and  Sestrina  listened,  the 
ocean's  monotone,  resounding  on  the  reefs  below, 
seemed  to  moan  in  sympathy  with  all  he  told  her. 

"  Ah,  wahine,  thou  knowest  not  the  sorrows  of  my 
people,"  he  murmured  ;  then  he  once  more  lapsed  into 
pidgin  English,  which  he  usually  did  when  speaking 
under  the  stress  of  deep  emotion.  "  Sestra,  when  I 
was  once  a  helper  of  the  afflicted  on  Molokai,  I  did  often 
see  some  beautiful  wahine  with  flying  hair  and  starry 
eyes,  running  along  the  beach  by  moonlight,  wringing 
her  hands,  as  she  cried  and  answered  the  moaning  voice 
of  the  winds  in  the  palms  that  sighed  to  her  dying  ears, 
like  to  the  dead  laughter  and  the  memories  of  lost 


174  SESTRINA 

children,  lovers  and  husband ;  I  know  not  which. 
Then  she  would  jump  into  the  sea.  And  the  waves, 
closing  over  her  head,  did  bring  the  peace  of  Atua, 
Pele,  and  the  great  White  God,  whichever  may  be  the 
most  merciful." 

Such  were  the  incidents  connected  with  Hawahee's 
history,  and  which  he  deigned  to  tell  Sestrina  that 
night  and  the  next  night  as  she  sat  by  the  kitchen  cook- 
ing-fire of  her  solitary  home  on  their  lone  isle  of  the  vast 
Pacific.  And  often,  when  Hawahee  had  crossed  the 
hollow  and  entered  his  hut  for  sleep,  the  imaginative 
castaway  girl  would  lie  in  her  own  chamber  and  fancy 
she  could  hear  the  dead  laughter  of  children  and  the 
calling  voices  of  the  dying  lepers,  shrieking  and  calling 
somewhere  out  in  the  wind-swept  palms,-  that  sighed 
fitfully  on  the  valley's  ridge  by  her  homestead.  In 
these  dreams  Sestrina  fully  realised  that,  to  the  lepers 
at  least,  her  lonely  desert  isle  was  a  haven  of  refuge, 
an  oasis  in  the  desert  of  their  life's  misery.  For  not  in 
all  the  world  was  sorrow  so  heartrending,  so  hideous 
and  intense  as  on  Molokai.  Yes,  notwithstanding  that 
missionaries  devoted  their  days  as  ministering  angels 
to  the  stricken  exiles,  and  that  the  heroic  martyr-priest 
Damien,  the  lepers'  Christ,  and  Father  Albert  the  good 
dwelt  in  their  midst.  For  who  can  stay  the  dead  from 
dreaming  in  their  living  tombs,  or  from  leaping  from  the 
grave  to  run '  along  the  dark,  beetling  crags  of  the 
moonlit  beach,  listening  to  the  memories  of  the  wind- 
swept palms  and  calling  to  the  skies  for  mercy  ? 


CHAPTER  II 

AFTER    Sestrina's  experience  with  Lupo    by  the 
lagoon,    everything  went    along    quietly  for  a 
week,   during    which  time    she   and  Hawahee    busied 
themselves  by  making  their  dwellings  as   comfortable 


SESTRINA  175 

as  possible.  Sestrina  gathered  stiff  grasses  for  the 
thatching  of  their  kitchen  roof,  which  Hawahee  was 
building  so  that  they  could  have  their  meals  in  each 
other's  company.  It  was  only  through  Sestrina's  in- 
sistent appeals  that  Hawahee  agreed  to  this  arrange- 
ment. Though  Hawahee  had  discovered,  to  his  great 
joy^  that  the  small  leper  patch  on  his  arm  had  dried 
and  seemed  to  be  healing,  he  still  feared  the  girl's  close 
presence,  and  demanded  her  not  to  touch  himr  Sestrina, 
happy  in  his  society,  worked  feverishly  to  help  him 
improve  their  rough  homes.  She  found  that  the  work 
distracted  her  thoughts  from  those  longings  and  memories 
which  often  came  and  filled  her  heart  with  anguish  when 
she  dwelt  upon  them.  Hawahee,  too,  did  his  best  to 
comfort  her.  He  often  sang  weird,  beautiful  Hawaiian 
melodies  to  her  and  played  on  a  bamboo  flute  which  he 
had  fashioned  as  they  sat  in  the  shade  of  the  lovely 
bread-fruit  that  grew  on  the  valley's  side,  just  by  their 
dwelling.  Sestrina's  heart  went  out  to  him  as  he  piped 
away  or  sang  in  the  shadows.  At  other  times  he 
would  tell  her  wonderful  legends  connected  with  the 
lore  of  his  native  isle.  Sestrina's  eyes  would  open  wide, 
as,  with  his  eyes  bright  with  the  light  of  belief,  he  told 
her  of  the  splendour  and  wonders  of  Atua,  Kuahilo, 
Tangalora,  and  Pele,  the  gods  and  goddesses  of  his 
childhood's  creed.  Sestrina  discovered  that  he  was  a 
native  of  Lahaina,  and  had  been  a  chief  of  the  village 
where  he  dwelt  till  he  had  become  converted  to 
Christianity. 

"  And  do  you  not  believe  in  the  God  of  my  creed  ?  " 
said  Sestrina,  as  she  thought  of  his  devotion  to  the 
little  ivory  idol  and  his  continuous  prayers  to  his 
heathen  deities. 

"  I  believe  in  all  the  gods  of  the  heavens,  wahine," 
he  had  replied.  And  then  he  had  told  the  Haytian 
girl  how  he  had  once  been  a  teacher  in  the  mission- 
rooms  at  Kailo,  a  fact  which  explained  why  Hawahee 
spoke  a  mixture  of  pidgin  and  biblical  English.  "  I 


176  SESTRINA 

play  on  flute,  nice  hymns  once,"  he  said  ;  then  he  took 
his  cleverly  improvised  flute  from  the  folds  of  his  tappa 
robe  and  played  many  melodies  that  were  familiar  to 
Sestrina.  He  had  already  constructed  a  flute  for 
Sestrina,  making  it  out  of  a  slender  bamboo  stem, 
placing  a  broad  blade  of  stiff  grass  in  the  mouthpiece  for 
a  reed.  "  Thou  hast  a  perfect  ear,  wahine,"  he  had  said 
when  Sestrina  astonished  him  by  her  perfect  rendering 
of  one  of  his  pagan  melodies.  Indeed,  it  was  wonderful 
the  headway  Sestrina  made  with  her  flute- playing  as 
she  sat  alone  under  the  breadfruits  and  practised  so  as 
to  distract  her  thoughts.  Hawahee's  delight  was  un- 
bounded to  find  that  Sestrina  liked  his  heathen  melodies. 
He  had  looked  sideways  at  the  girl  with  a  kind,  yet 
artful,  glance,  and  had  said  :  "  Thou  playest  well,  and 
'tis  well  for  thee  to  pray  to  the  great  White  God,  but 
better  still  to  turn  thy  head  away  and  give  praise  unto 
the  glory  of  Atua,  Pele  and  Kuahilo — eh  ?  " 

Withal,  Hawahee  was  a  noble-souled,  clean-minded 
man,  and,  like  many  of  his  type,  possessed  the  great 
virtue  of  truly  believing  all  that  he  professed  to  believe. 
Hawahee  possessed  the  deep  instincts  of  a  pagan  fanatic 
combined  with  the  pagan's  poetic  sympathy  with  the 
beauties  of  nature.  No  leaf  dropped,  no  flower  danced 
in  the  sunlight,  no  bird  sang,  but  Hawahee's  visualising 
imagination  saw  or  heard  it  as  some  symbol  of  human 
joy  or  sorrow,  some  natural  living  representation  of  the 
thousand  and  one  fancies  that  haunted  his  mind. 
Consequently  nature  was,  to  him,  some  mysterious 
pageant  of  the  deep  thoughts  of  his  gods  blossoming 
in  multitudinous  hues,  or  winging  the  sky  as  birds,  or 
singing  happily  and  sometimes  moaning  angrily  in  the 
starlit,  solemn  big-trunked  breadfruit  trees. 

As  Sestrina  sat  listening  by  night  to  his  fascinating, 
poetic  speech  that  sparkled  with  spontaneous  similes, 
she  came  under  the  influence  of  his  poetic,  deeply- 
religious  personality.  This  influence  was  a  blessing  in 
disguise,  for  that  too  helped  her  forget  the  anguish  and 


SESTRINA  177 

despair  that  came  when  she  thought  of  Royal  Clensy 
of  the  great  world,  of  her  father,  Claircine  and  all  she 
had  left  behind  in  the  world  that  was  fast  becoming  a 
misty  past  to  her  sorrowing  mind. 

As  the  days  passed  Hawahee  would  sit  by  Sestrina 
with  a  troubled  expression  on  his  face.  "  Like  me,  he 
sorrows  over  the  memories  of  the  past,"  thought 
Sestrina  as  she  sat  opposite  him,  watching  him  moodily 
toil  over  the  beautiful  basket-weaving  which  he  was  so 
proficient  in.  Then  the  castaway  girl's  handsome  com- 
rade would  rise,  and  saying,  "  Wahine,  I  will  go  and 
scan  the  seas  for  a  sail,"  would  walk  across  the  valley 
to  see  his  leper  comrades. 

And  why  did  Hawahee  seek  his  stricken  brothers  ? 
It  was  for  the  special  purpose  of  remonstrating  with 
them,  chiding  them  for  their  evil  desires. 

"  Thou  hast  deserted  thy  goddess  Pele,  and  Atua  of 
Langi,"  he  would  say  as  he  stood  before  the  stricken 
men  while  they  sat  huddled  by  their  wattle  hut  by  the 
moaning,  everlasting  seas. 

Lupo,  Rohana,  Steno  and  the  two  blind  men  would 
hang  their  heads  in  shame  and  ask  forgiveness. 

"  Ora  loa  Jesu,"  sighed  Rohana  as  he  knelt  in  prayer 
before  Hawahee,  asking  the  Christian  God  to  help  him 
fight  against  his  sinful  desires. 

"  'Tis  well  that  you  pray,"  said  Hawahee  sternly,  as 
he  reminded  them  how  they  had  broken  their  sacred 
oaths.  For  they,  too,  had  embraced  Christianity  when 
first  afflicted  with  the  scourge,  and  at  the  same  time 
had  secretly  sworn  to  be  faithful  to  the  goddess  Pele 
and  the  god  Kuahilo,  and  so  banish  all  desires  of  the 
flesh. 

"  'Tis  te  rom  (rum)  that  did  fire  our  bodies  and  the 
meats  from  the  wreck,"  murmured  Lupo. 

Then  Steno  had  sighed  in  a  melancholy  voice  in  this 
wise  : 

"  But  beautiful  is  she  who  dwelleth  near  our  sorrow, 
she  hath  eyes  and  beauty  that  must  have  been  made 
M 


178  SESTRINA 

by  the  great  White  God  when  He  first  sighed  the  stars 
and  made  the  soft  whiteness  of  the  sea-dawns." 

"  Surely  her  mouth  was  made  from  the  rosy  flush  of 
the  first  sunrise  that  startled  the  great  dark  on  the  deep 
seas,"  murmured  Rohana  as  Steno's  words  fired  his  soul 
with  bright  thoughts  over  Sestrina's  beauty. 

"  And  when  she  passed  by  us,  0  Hawahee,  chief  of 
Lahaina,  we  could  scent  the  odours  of  the  first  flowers 
on  the  mountain-side,  made  when  the  White  God  said, 
'  Let  there  be  light,'  and  formed  trees,  and  birds  to 
wing  the  blue  Langi,"  said  the  two  blind  lepers  as  they 
mumbled  and  sighed  and  moved  their  sightless  heads 
thither  and  thither  as  they  imagined  Sestrina's  loveli- 
ness and  longed  for  sight. 

Then  Lupo,  who  had  nursed  jealousy  in  his  breast 
that  Hawahee  should  claim  the  girl's  companionship, 
hung  his  head  and  promised  Hawahee  never  to  attempt 
to  approach  Sestrina  again.  And  Lupo  meant  what  he 
said.  But,  alas !  for  the  weakness  of  mortals,  once 
more  the  lepers  fell  before  the  compelling  strength  of 
their  desires.  Hawahee  did  not  know  they  still  possessed 
two  barrels  of  rum,  which  they  had  hidden  in  the  caves 
just  by  their  dwelling. 

And  so  Sestrina,  two  nights  after  the  lepers  had  given 
their  promise  not  to  approach  her,  was  suddenly 
awakened  again.  Some  one  had  thrown  a  stone  ;  she 
sat  up  and  trembled  in  her  fright ;  then  some  more 
pebbles  were  thrown.  She  heard  them  go  "  tap,  tap !  " 
on  the  wooden  walls  of  her  homestead. 

"  What  can  it  be  ?  Surely  not  Hawahee  ?  "  she 
thought,  as  she  sprang  from  her  couch  and  ran  towards 
the  door.  Pushing  the  old  sail-cloth  curtain  aside, 
she  peered  out  into  the  night.  The  moon  was-  high 
over  the  sea,  sending  its  silver  radiance  on  the  shore 
palms  as  the  dark-fingered  leaves  softly  stirred  to  the 
warm  breeze.  "  It  must  have  been  the  fall  of  a  coco- 
nut," she  thought  as  she  turned  round  and  gazed  up 
at  the  tall  coco-palm  that  sheltered  her  humble  roof. 


SESTRINA  179 

Then  she  stared  into  the  shadows,  and  again  looked 
seaward,  where  the  tumbling  silvered  waves  seemed 
beating  silently  as  they  curled  over  the  shore  reefs. 
"  Aue !  Aue !  "  she  cried,  as  in  her  fright  she  dodged 
back — "  pat,  pat !  "  two  more  pebbles  had  been  thrown ! 
With  difficulty  she  suppressed  the  instinctive  feminine 
desire  to  scream  for  help — three  figures  had  crept  out 
of  the  bamboo  thicket,  across  the  hollow,  right  opposite 
her  door !  Sestrina  stood  like  some  beautiful  chiselled 
statue  with  flying  hair  as  she  saw  the  dark  figures 
commence  to  crawl  down  the  small  slope,  making 
straight  for  her  dwelling.  For  a  moment  the  girl  felt 
strangely  calm.  "  It  is  the  lepers — and  they  want 
me  !  "  she  murmured,  as  in  a  flash  she  realised  the  truth. 
As  the  figures  passed  by  the  huge  prickly-backed  cacti — 
that  resembled  sleeping  monsters  breathing  in  moon- 
light— she  distinctly  recognised  Rohana,  Steno  and 
Lupo,  and  knew  that  the  two  hesitating  forms  that 
crept  behind  were  the  blind  lepers.  Lupo  was  the 
foremost ;  she  saw  his  burning  eyes  stare  at  her  through 
the  moonlit  gloom.  Just  behind  Rohana  crawled  Steno, 
and  he,  with  the  two  blind  lepers,  was  lifting  skeleton- 
like  arms  as  though  in  terrible  appeal  as  they  each 
stayed  a  moment  on  the  slope.  Sestrina  stood  per- 
fectly still  by  her  door  as  the  soft  night  wind  touched 
her  hair  and  sent  it  in  ripples  over  her  face  and 
shoulders.  As  Rohana  lifted  his  head  up  to  stare 
over  Lupo's  shoulder,  he  rolled  his  bulging,  nearly 
blind  eyes  to  locate  Sestrina.  He  could  hear  his 
comrades  whispering  about  the  girl's  loveliness.  The 
sounds  of  their  whispering  voices  brought  Sestrina 
to  her  senses.  Running  a  few  steps  forward,  she 
cried  : 

"  Stop !  " 

On  seeing  the  girl's  determined  attitude,  as  she  stood 
with  one  hand  uplifted,  Lupo,  Rohana  and  Steno 
ceased  to  move.  Then  they  lifted  their  hands  in  appeal 
and  at  the  same  time  whispered  as  loud  as  they  dared — 


180  SESTRINA 

for  they  knew  that  Hawahee  slept  near — impassioned 
words  over  her  beauty, 

"  Are  you  hungry,  brothers  ?  "  whispered  Sestrina,  as 
she  leaned  forward,  caught  a  few  words  and  fancied  the 
lepers  appealed  for  food. 

The  lepers  made  no  reply.  Then  Kohana  rose  to  his 
feet,  and,  looking  over  Lupo's  shoulder,  said,  in  his  own 
tongue,  words  which,  translated,  would  be  as  follows : 

"  0  wahine,  give  us  but  one  touch  from  thy  lips,  one 
embrace,  and  we  will  never  come  again,  but  will  take 
our  sorrowing  hearts  in  prayer  to  the  great  White  God 
of  yours,  and  thank  Him  and  thee  also  for  thy  divine 
mercy  towards  hungry,  sorrowing,  yet  sinful  men." 

Though  Sestrina  did  not  understand,  there  was  that 
light  in  their  eyes  which  spoke  louder  than  words.  A 
great  fear  clutched  at  her  heart.  She  turned  to  rush 
back  into  her  homestead.  In  one  bound  Lupo  had 
reached  her  side,  his  comrades  just  behind  him.  The 
leper  had  clasped  her  in  his  arms  and  was  endeavouring 
to  press  hot  kisses  on  her  shoulders  and  face.  Rohana, 
who  stood  just  by  and  had  noticed  the  soft  whiteness 
of  her  arms,  fell  down  on  his  knees,  and  in  the  delirium 
of  the  terrible  passion  that  maddened  his  better  self, 
began  to  wail  out  words  of  appeal  and  love  for  her  ears. 

Sestrina's  frightened  scream  echoed  over  the  silent 
hills  of  the  isle.  Even  the  roosting  parrots  rose  in  a 
fluttering,  shrieking  shower  and  flapped  and  muttered 
in  the  moonlit  sky  at  being  disturbed  by  humanity  in 
the  sylvan  peace  of  their  tropic  world. 

Hawahee,  who  had  awakened  with  a  start  at  hearing 
the  girl's  cry,  jumped  from  his  bed-mat.  Rushing 
towards  Sestrina's  hut,  he  found  her  struggling  in  Lupo's 
grasp  as  Rohana  stood  by  and  Steno  and  the  two  blind 
lepers  groped  in  their  madness  to  touch  the  girl's 
flesh.  In  a  moment  Hawahee  had  knocked  Lupo  and 
Rohana  down.  Then  he  seized  hold  of  Sestrina  and 
carried  her  fainting  form  into  her  chamber. 

"Thank  Pele,  Kuahilo,  and  the  great  White  God 


SESTRINA  181 

that  I  was  in  time,"  he  murmured,  as  Sestrina  opened 
her  eyes  and  said  : 

"  Do  not  hurt  them.  They  tried  to  kiss  me  ;  they 
have  gone  mad  !  " 

Next  day  Hawahee  went  over  to  the  lepers'  dwelling. 
Gazing  upon  the  stricken  men  with  flashing  eyes,  he 
said,  "  Betrayers  of  innocence  !  Faithless  to  the  gods 
and  to  thine  own  souls,  Pele,  Kuahilo  and  Atua  of 
Langi  will  leave  your  bodies  everlastingly  in  the  dust.'* 

Saying  such  things  as  these  to  the  lepers,  they  hung 
their  heads  in  shame.  And  though  Hawahee's  wrath 
was  righteous  and  came  from  the  depths  of  his  noble 
soul,  he,  too,  was  a  man  and  so  secretly  felt  a  deep 
compassion  for  his  weaker  fellows.  But  still  keeping 
up  an  appearance  of  anger,  he  ordered  the  lepers  to 
pack  up  at  once  and  go  away,  and  make  another  dwel- 
ling for  themselves  on  the  other  side  of  the  isle.  Then 
he  straightway  went  into  the  hollows  next  to  where 
they  slept,  and  seeing  the  half-empty  barrel  of  rum, 
turned  it  upside  down  and  let  the  hot  fluid  run  away 
into  the  sands. 

**  Loa,  va  naki  "  (go  at  once  from  here),  he  said. 

The  stricken  men  at  once  began  to  pack  their  belong- 
ings— a  few  old  clothes  and  trinkets  saved  from  the 
wreck — and  were  soon  prepared  to  depart. 

"  Wahine,  Sestra!"  called  Hawahee.  As  Sestrina, 
who  had  stood  close  by  in  the  shade  of  the  bamboos, 
appeared,  the  erring  men  dropped  their  eyes,  and  the 
blind  ones  wailed. 

"  Come  thou  too,"  said  Hawahee  as  he  looked  at  the 
girl. 

In  a  moment  Sestrina  followed  the  men  as  they 
started  off  with  their  belongings.  When  they  all 
arrived  at  the  other  side  of  the  isle,  they  found  a  large 
hollow  by  the  shore,  close  to  the  palm-sheltered  lagoons. 

"  This  spot  is  even  better  than  the  place  which  you 
have  left,"  said  Hawahee. 

On  the  slopes  around  stood  coco-palms  and    flam- 


182  SESTRINA 

boyant  trees,  tlie  ground  being  exquisitely  carpeted 
with  clusters  of  hibiscus  and  other  rich  patterns  of 
tropical  flowers  that  were  shaded  by  the  beautiful 
pulus  (tree  ferns). 

When  the  banished  lepers  had  placed  their  humble 
chattels  in  the  large  cavern,  Hawahee  and  Sestrina 
did  their  best  to  make  them  as  comfortable  as  possible. 
Then  the  handsome  Hawaiian  looked  sternly  upon  the 
abject  men,  and  warned  them  never  to  come  to  the 
other  side  of  the  isle.  "  Should  you  do  so,  you  come 
to  die,"  he  said,  and  the  note  in  his  voice  sounded 
ominous.  Then  he  promised  to  come  on  the  morrow 
and  bring  the  few  chattels  which  they  had  been  obliged 
to  leave  behind.  "  Brothers,  my  love,  notwithstand- 
ing your  sins,  is  true  and  deep  for  you,"  he  said,  and 
saying  this,  he  put  forth  his  hand  and  muttered  :  "  Ora 
loi  Jesu,  aloah,  0  gods  of  Langi !  "  and  on  hearing  these 
words,  the  lepers,  like  obedient  children,  followed  him 
down  to  the  shore.  Falling  on  their  trembling  knees 
in  the  soft  sands,  they  did  as  Hawahee  bade — fervently 
prayed  to  Kuahilo,  Atua  and  the  goddess  Pele,  their 
faces  turned  towards  the  sunset,  which  was  the  fiery 
portal  of  Pele's  dwelling. 

Sestrina,  who  stood  a  little  way  off,  under  the  palms 
up  the  shore,  heard  the  pathetic  mumblings  as  they 
prayed  in  their  native  language,  appealing  to  the  gods, 
asking  help  so  that  they  might  conquer  their  sinful 
desires.  She  saw  them  lift  their  fleshless  hands  and 
stricken  faces  as  they  helped  guide  the  hands  of  their 
blind  comrades,  as  each  turned  towards  the  light  of  the 
seaward  sunset. 

Sestrina  felt  sorry  as  she  saw  that  sight ;  she  turned 
her  eyes  away  from  the  shore  and  wept. 


PART  III 
CHAPTER  I 

What  greater  wonder  can  the  fates  have  planned 
Than  this  lone  isle's  green  palms  and  coral  bars  ? 
That  I— lost  on  a  vast  untravelled  sea — 
Might  stand  astonished  staring  at  the  stars  I 

EIGHT  years  had  passed  since  the  winds  had  drifted 
Sestrina  and  the  lepers  into  the  vast  solitude  of 
that  isle  in  the  Pacific  Ocean.     Even  on  that  lonely 
island    world,   Time's   flight   had   wrought   wondrous 
changes. 

On  the  elevation,  just  above  the  shore  reefs  by  the 
lagoons,  stood  five  lumps  of  coral  stone  which  had  been 
fashioned  so  as  to  resemble  crosses.  It  was  the  tiny 
necropolis  where  the  lepers,  Lupo,  Rohana,  Steno  and 
their  two  blind  comrades  lay  asleep  with  all  their  mortal 
desires  and  sins  in  the  dust  under  the  waving  palms. 

The  years  had  changed  Sestrina  from  a  slim  maid 
into  the  fully  developed  beauty  of  womanhood.  The 
hot  tropical  suns  had  tanned  her  body  into  a  deeper 
olive  hue.  Clad  in  the  carefully  woven  raiment  of 
tropical  tappa  and  silky  fibres,  she  looked  as  wildly 
beautiful  as  the  rich  tropical  loveliness  of  the  isle  itself. 
Deferred  hope  and  the  agony  of  years,  all  that  she  had 
suffered  during  her  castaway  life  on  the  isle,  had  written 
the  poetry  of  sorrow  on  her  brow.  Her  full  dark  eyes 
had  become  mournful-looking,  but  shone  with  a  deeper 
light  than  they  had  done  in  her  girlhood.  In  all  the 
time  that  had  passed  since  she  had  first  set  foot  on  that 
desert  isle,  only  one  schooner  had  appeared  on  the 

183 


184  SESTRINA 

horizon,  bringing?  a  great  hope  to  her  heart.  The 
cleverly  weaved  red  and  green  tappa-cloth  signal-flag, 
made  by  Hawaheeip  hands,  and  which  still  flew  on  top 
of  the  dead  palm  that  stood  out  on  the  promontory's 
edge,  had  streamed  to  the  breezes,  calling  to  the  sky- 
lines— in  vain !  The  schooner's  sails  had  faded  away, 
leaving  a  deeper  loneliness  in  Sestrina's  heart.  She 
had  watched  it  tacking,  creeping  along  the  dim  blue 
sky-line  till  the  sails  faded  into  the  sunset's  glow,  taking 
her  dreams  and  passionate  yearnings  out  to  the  great 
world  that  she  but  dimly  remembered. 

Time  had  completely  metamorphosed  her  memory 
of  the  past.  Her  childhood's  knowledge  of  the  great 
world  of  men  and  women  had  been  slowly  transmuted 
into  a  tiny  isle  set  in  surrounding,  infinite  seas,  a  universe 
of  stars,  a  lonely  tropic  sun,  dim  horizons,  and  Hawa- 
hee's  melancholy  eyes.  Her  Bible,  and  the  books  of 
life  that  she  read,  were  the  moods  of  the  winds,  the  seas 
and  changing  seasons.  She  saw  her  passions  blossom 
in  the  fiery  crimson  of  the  flamboyant  trees,  her  purest 
thoughts  in  the  delicate  spiritual  flowers  of  gossamer 
whiteness ;  her  soul's  longing  shone  in  the  earnest 
stars,  and  her  vanity  in  the  mirroring  blue  lagoons. 
All  the  great  wonder,  terror  and  mystery  of  the  unknown 
came  to  her  on  the  voice  of  the  winds  when  the  ramping 
storms  and  typhoons  swept  those  sailless  seas.  Nature's 
multitudinous  twinings,  leafy  arms  of  green  and  dark- 
branched  broodings,  made  the  grand  eeolian  harp  that 
played  to  the  wind's  shifting  fingers,  filling  her  soul  with 
religious  fervour.  The  stars  shining  by  night  through 
those  sombre  boughs  were,  to  her,  the  glittering  thoughts 
of  the  mighty  dark-branched  brain  of  some  heathen 
god.  But  dawn  brought  the  eternal  rose  of  beauty  in 
the  radiant  birth  of  the  sunrise  as  she  sat  on  the  shore 
reefs,  piping  on  her  flute  while  the  flowers  daaced  and 
the  birds  sang  those  long,  long  thoughts  that  floated 
in  the  haunting  mists  of  her  mind.  Her  sorrow,  all  the 
anguish  and  tears  of  years,  had  imparadised  the  sky-line 


SESTRINA  185 

of  her  memory,  shining  like  an  everlasting  rainbow  by 
virtue  of  the  sunlight  of  her  days  of  pale  resignation. 

Sestrina  had  become  a  pagan !  Yet — though  her 
life  had  been  slowly  transmuted  into  a  conscious  dream- 
ing of  the  vast  mystery  of  the  universe — she  was  still 
full  of  sweetness  and  light  as  she  went  about  her  domestic 
duties.  As  she  stood  by  the  shore  palms,  she  glanced 
with  satisfaction  down  at  the  heap  of  shellfish  in  her 
hand-woven  basket.  Then  she  walked  up  the  soft 
silvery  sands  till  she  came  to  her  homestead,  a  thatched 
hut  which  stood  in  the  shades  of  the  valley's  high 
breadfruit  trees  and  palms. 

"  Sestra  !  "  said  a  man's  voice  as  she  lifted  a  calabash 
and  poured  water  into  the  big  shell-pot  wherein  she 
had  placed  the  fish,  and  which  was  hanging  over  the 
small  domestic  hearth-fire. 

It  was  Hawahee  who  spoke.  The  hand  of  time  had 
also  toiled  on  his  brow,  leaving  faint  lines  and  all  the 
poetry  of  grief  which  ennobles  the  human  countenance. 
Through  living  on  fresh  shellfish,  and  through  constant 
bathings  in  the  ocean  that  encircled  his  home,  he  had 
stayed  the  ravages  of  the  terrible  scourge  with  which 
he  was  afflicted.  He  was  still  young  and  handsome. 

"  Is  the  fish  cooked,  Sestra  ?  " 

"  Yes,  and  I  have  cooked  the  yams  and  taro,"  replied 
Sestrina. 

She  brushed  her  mass  of  shining  tresses  aside,  and 
gazing  in  the  Hawaiian's  face,  swiftly  dropped  her  eyes 
again. 

For  years  they  had  dwelt  in  the  solitude  of  that 
place  as  comrades,  and  only  yesterday,  for  the  first 
time,  Hawahee  had  looked  steadily  at  her  and  said : 
"  Sestra,  you  are  beautiful  to  gaze  upon,  the  light  of 
the  stars  still  lingers  in  your  eyes  long  after  the  dawn 
has  come." 

He  had  often  spoken  to  Sestrina  in  the  semi-poetic 
style  which  is  the  fascinating  characteristic  of  Hawaiian 
speech,  but  never  before  had  Sestrina  seen  him  look  at 


186  SESTRINA 

her  so.  Her  heart  did  not  resent  the  tender  meaning 
of  that  look.  She,  too,  had  felt  the  great  heart-loneliness 
and  the  desire  which  comes  to  women  when  they  feel 
the  tiny  fingers  of  unborn  children  twining  about  the 
bosom  of  their  dreams. 

"  The  gods  and  goddesses  have  been  good  to  us, 
Sestra." 

"  Indeed  they  have,  0  Hawahee,"  replied  Sestrina 
in  those  sweet  sombre  tones  that  had  become  habitual 
to  her  through  years  of  isolated  companionship  with  the 
Hawaiian  chief. 

Throwing  a  small  piece  of  wood  on  the  kitchen  fire, 
where  the  cooking  fish  fizzled  and  spluttered,  Hawahee 
continued  :  "  Ah,  wahine,  though  you  so  often  dream 
of  one  you  love,  and  have  brought  tears  to  my  eyes 
over  your  sorrow,  remember  that  I  am  a  lonely  man, 
dwelling  in  lonelier  sorrow.  And,  I  say,  that  though  I 
have  promised  the  gods  to  quench  the  fire  of  mortal 
desire,  I  know  'tis  no  wish  of  the  gods  Kauhilo,  Atua 
or  merciful  Pele,  that  I  should  not  gaze  on  the  loveliness 
of  woman." 

"  How  know  you  that  I  dream  of  others  than  Pele, 
Kauhilo  and  Atua  ?  "  said  Sestrina,  as  she  gazed  in 
wonder  on  the  man  who  could  read  her  secret  dreams. 

"  Can  I  help  the  magic  light  that  brightens  my  soul, 
this  gift  of  the  gods  which  enables  me  to  see  your 
innermost  dreams  ?  Can  I  stay  the  reflected  light  of 
thy  beauty  from  stealing  over  my  soul,  or  the  pain  and 
anguish  of  my  quenched  desires,  0  wahine  ?  " 

Sestrina  listened  with  bowed  head,  and  blushed 
deeply.  She  well  knew  the  sorrow  of  the  man's 
thoughts  ;  and  was  not  vanity  a  part  of  her  birth- 
right ?  Only  that  morning  had  she  stared  on  her 
image  in  the  lagoon  and  sighed  as  her  wind-blown  tresses 
rippled  over  the  graceful  beauty  of  her  form  and  about 
her  faultless  face. 

Seeing  Sestrina's  downcast  eyes  the  Hawaiian  sighed 
and  said ;  "  Wahine,  sister  mine,  feel  not  unkindly 


SESTRINA  187 

towards  me  ;  I  am  thy  friend.  Long  ago  I  would 
have  died,  but  for  the  thought  of  your  loneliness  should 
I,  too,  sleep  on  in  the  grave  under  the  palms." 

Sestrina  heard  the  deep  note  of  sorrow  in  Hawahee's 
voice,  and  wiped  her  eyes,  for  up  to  that  day  he  had 
always  spoken  as  a  dear  brother  to  her. 

And  a  strange  thing  had  happened  the  night  before 
as  she  dreamed  in  her  chamber  and  heard  the  starlit 
waves  wailing  on  the  beach  below.  For,  had  she  not 
leapt  from  her  couch  in  wonder  when  she  saw  Hawahee 
asleep  and  dreaming  as  he  held  her  shadowy  form  in 
his  arms — though  he  was  in  his  own  hut  under  the 
breadfruits  by  the  slopes  of  the  valley,  two  hundred 
yards  away ! 

Hawahee  was  unaware  that  Sestrina  also  had  suddenly 
become  endowed  with  the  magic-flash  which  enabled 
him  to  read  the  deep  dreams  of  the  solitary  woman  who 
stood  before  him. 

Taking  a  crumpled  flower  from  the  folds  of  her  hair, 
Sestrina  placed  it  tenderly  against  her  lips  and  then 
handed  it  to  Hawahee. 

"  Aloah,  beloved,  Mikai !  "  had  replied  the  Hawaiian 
castaway  as  he  took  the  gift  and  sadly  smiled.  For  he 
had  spent  many  long  twilight  hours  in  the  island's 
solitude  telling  Sestrina  the  poetic  customs  of  his 
people.  And  one  custom  was,  that  the  Hawaiian  maida 
gave  crumpled  flowers  that  had  adorned  their  hair  in 
sleep  to  the  one  whom  their  hearts  secretly  sorrowed  over. 

"  "Tis  sweet  to  feel  the  light  and  warmth  of  the  living 
day,  therefore  I  am  thankful  for  the  gifts  of  the  gods  of 
the  heiaus  (sacred  temples)." 

Then  they  sat  down  opposite  each  other  and  ate 
their  breakfast  in  silence.  The  blue  tropic  day  had 
risen  in  all  the  virgin  splendour  of  its  new  birth,  and 
was  scattering  golden  sunlight  through  the  sheltering 
palms  as  they  sat  there. 

"  Sestra  !  Sestra  !  "  chuckled  old  Rohana.  Then  the 
aged,  grey-striped,  blue-winged  cockatoo  stared  sideways 


188  SESTRINA 

from  its  perch  at  Hawahee,  who  was  solemnly  munching 
away,  and  croaked,  "  0  Atua  !  0  Pele  !  " 

"  Be  quiet,  Rohana !  "  said  Sestrina  as  she  gazed 
fondly  at  the  wise-looking  cockatoo  which  they  had 
tamed  and  made  their  close  companion,  calling  it 
Rohana  since  its  eyes  so  strangely  reminded  them  of 
the  dead  leper. 

"  The  winds  blow  steadily  from  the  sunrise,  wahine, 
and  so  the  heiaus  (temples)  music  moans  for  us,"  said 
Hawahee  in  a  solemn  voice.  As  he  rose  from  his 
squatting  mat,  Sestrina  also  rose,  and,  inclining  her 
form,  she  listened  to  the  musical  murmurs  that  floated 
from  the  temple. 

"  Let  us  go  and  give  thanks  to  the  gods  ere  the  sun 
is  high,"  said  Hawahee  as  he  brushed  the  crumbs  from 
his  tappa-robe  that  so  admirably  suited  his  tall,  hand- 
some figure.  Then  they  both  went  away  down  the 
slope  that  led  into  the  lovely  valley  of  breadfruits. 
Sestrina,  with  bowed  head,  followed  close  behind  her 
masterful,  but  kind,  companion. 

In  a  few  moments  they  stood  before  the  wonderful 
temple  which  Hawahee  had  fashioned  after  infinite 
toil  during  the  long  lonely  years.  The  temple  had  been 
made  out  of  the  natural  structure  of  the  big  cavern 
and  its  high  rocky  walls  in  the  valley's  side.  The 
dimly  lit,  hollow  chamber  was  about  fifteen  feet  high, 
and  the  altar  side  was  composed  of  wonderfully  arranged 
shells  of  multitudinous  shapes  and  sizes,  all  having 
been  placed  in  rows  and  spiral  columns  that  rose  to 
the  roofless  edifice,  for  the  sun  by  day  and  the  stars 
at  night  were  the  sacred  lights  that  shone  through  the 
branched  heights  of  that  temple's  roof.  These  shells, 
many  of  enormous  dimensions,  had  been  arranged  with 
delicate  care  in  such  a  way,  that  when  the  winds  blew 
from  the  south-east,  and  came  sweeping  down  the 
valley,  they  blew  into  the  pearly  convolutions  of  each 
shell,  which  responded  with  a  musical  murmur.  It 
was  not  a  disordered,  unharmonious  sound  which  the 


SESTRINA  189 

shells  gave  forth  when  the  sea  winds  blew,  but  a  perfect, 
harmonious,  plaintive  chant-like  chime.  And  it  waa 
this  weird,  mournful  chime  which  came  to  Hawahee's 
and  Sestrina's  ears  as  they  crept  under  the  tall  bread- 
fruit trees,  so  that  they  might  kneel  in  prayer  before 
the  altar  of  the  shell-gods  ! 

It  was  a  grand,  masterly  fashioned  work,  a  temple  of 
the  highest  art  attainable  by  mortal  man.  With  the 
infinite  patience  of  religious  fervour,  and  a  deep  insight 
and  belief  in  the  divine  omnipotence  of  his  pagan  gods, 
Hawahee  had  scraped  and  cut,  through  years  of  toil, 
three  of  the  larger  shells  till  they  resembled  the  faces  of 
the  goddess  Pele  and  the  gods  Kauhilo  and  Atua.  With 
no  other  tool  than  a  broken  ship's  claspknife,  which  he 
had  found  on  the  Belle  Isle,  Hawahee  had  slowly  cut 
holes  and  chiselled  perfect  brows,  leaving  the  wide 
pearly  convolution  of  each  shell's  entrance  for  a  mouth. 
The  broad  shoulders,  bust  and  limbs  of  giant  proportions 
had  been  cut  from  boulders  of  coral  stone,  each  limb 
being  fixed  by  indistinguishable  joints  of  red  clay.  The 
whole  was  a  wondrous  work  of  art.  Each  shell-face 
and  boulder  had  been  exalted  from  insensate  stone  into 
an  object  of  marvellous  allegorical,  sombre,  awesome 
beauty.  The  pearl  flush  of  the  lips  and  the  wrinkled 
brows  expressed,  in  sculptural  silence,  something  of  the 
terror  and  majesty  of  the  unknown  powers  of  the 
universe !  For,  Hawahee  had  achieved  the  highest 
artistic  result :  through  infinite  toil  he  had  managed 
to  imbue,  endow  each  form  with  god-like  attributes. 
And  lo,  each  face  was  an  exact  representation  of  the 
wonderful  picture  which  his  poetic  imagination,  his 
inward  vision  shaped  when  he  knelt  in  religious  fervour 
to  the  starlit  dark  and  his  pagan  gods.  But,  withal, 
there  was  something  more  than  chiselled,  symbolical 
beauty  in  Hawahee's  sculptural  work.  This  humble 
castaway  child  of  Art  who  created  his  own  deities,  had 
endowed  their  lips  with  the  grand  orchestral  harmony 
of  the  ocean's  cry  in  a  thousand  thousand  caverns  :  for 


190  SESTRINA 

when  the  winds  blew,  each  wonderful  shell-mouth  of 
the  gods  and  goddess  moaned  a  deep  bass  note  which 
was  in  perfect  harmony  with  the  shrill  murmurings 
and  musical  clamour  of  the  wonderful  altar's  smaller 
shells  ! 

The  goddess  Pele,  who  stood  in  the  centre — Kauhilo 
on  the  right  and  Atua  on  the  left  side — was  seven  feet 
in  height  and  possessed  four  arms,  the  extreme  right 
arm  being  outstretched,  the  perfect  tapering  fingers 
gripping  the  yellowish,  ivory  idol  that  had  been  the 
symbol  of  the  dead  Chinaman's  religion.  Kauhilo,  who 
gazed  with  an  eternal  sidelong  glance  from  his  brilliant 
stone  eyes  at  Pel6,  had  a  human  skull  poised  on  his  right 
shoulder.  Atua  had  four  arms,  three  outstretched 
and  one  inclined  in  marvellous  sculptural  beauty  as  it 
rested  on  Pele's  shoulder,  while  the  pearl-white  eyes 
gazed  with  immutable  grief  into  the  leafy  shadows  of 
the  banyan  beyond  the  altar's  portals.  Incredible  as 
it  may  seem,  Hawahee  had  with  infinite  patience  and 
genius  constructed  a  marvellous  aeolian  organ  of  shells, 
whereon  the  winds  not  only  played  a  cunning,  sweet- 
murmuring  cadence,  but  rendered  a  sombre,  beautiful 
Hawaiian  hymn.  Some  of  the  shells  weighed  a  hundred- 
weight ;  and  glittering  in  the  sunlight  that  shone  down 
through  the  palms  over  the  temple,  they  looked  like 
mysterious  pipes  of  some  cathedral  organ  of  nature's 
construction,  rows  upon  rows  of  small  shells  gradually 
increasing  to  larger  rosy  shells,  each  row  arranged  so 
that  it  gave  forth  the  required  note  when  the  winds 
swept  down  the  valley. 

The  first  idea  that  had  inspired  Hawahee  to  make  this 
wonderful  instrument,  came  from  his  memory  of  the 
great  Atua  priests  of  his  native  isles.  These  priests 
would  artfully  place  large  empty  shells  on  the  shores  by 
the  tribal  villages  so  that  when  the  storms  blew,  the 
shells  moaned  to  the  listening,  superstitious  chiefs  hidden 
up  the  shores.  So  did  the  priests  invest  their  persons 
with  a  mighty  significance  and  prove  to  the  chiefs  that 


SESTRINA  191 

they  were  the  chosen  of  Atua,  Tangalora,  Pele  and 
Kauhilo. 

It  had  taken  years  to  select  the  one  shell  from  thou- 
sands that  would,  when  placed  just  so,  give  forth  the 
exact  note  required.  Sestrina  had  helped  Hawahee 
in  the  building  of  this  wonderful  temple  and  altar. 
She,  too,  had  roamed  round  the  shores  of  that  lonely 
Pacific  isle  gathering  thousands  and  thousands  of  sea- 
shells,  and  had  shared  Hawahee's  enthusiasm  as  one 
by  one  the  perfect  shell  was  discovered.  Under  the 
influence  of  the  Hawaiian's  fanaticism,  Sestrina  had 
developed  deep  faith  in  the  virtue  of  the  shell's  Lydian 
strains.  "  The  great  White  God,  and  the  older  gods, 
will  know  the  love  I  have  given  to  this  work,  and  will 
hear  the  winds  of  heaven  singing  sweetly  to  their  ears," 
said  Hawahee. 

Sestrina  had  gazed  in  wonder  as  the  handsome, 
dignified  fanatic  toiled  through  the  years  over  his  mar- 
vellous work  of  love.  And  so,  she  too  had  developed 
a  reverence  for  the  stars  and  the  voice  of  that  mighty 
lyrist — the  wind  of  heaven — and  had  felt  the  deep  soul- 
thrilling  thoughts  that  come  to  those  who  kneel  before 
the  materialised  shapes  of  their  imagination,  those 
objects  which  faintly  represent  the  solemnity  of  their 
innermost  faith. 

When  Hawahee  and  Sestrina  entered  the  temple,  they 
at  once  knelt  before  Atua,  Pele  and  Kauhilo.  Then,  as 
the  winds  swept  along  the  valley  and  the  goddess  Pele's 
tongueless  shell-lips  moaned  a  rich  Lydian  note  to  the 
deeper  mouths  of  the  gods,  they  too  lifted  their  voices 
and  took  part  in  that  wondrous  choir. 

Sestrina  trembled.  For  the  first  time  for  years  she 
found  her  thoughts  straying  from  the  solemnity  of  the 
occasion.  And  why  ?  She  distinctly  heard  Hawahee 
extemporising  unusual  words — words  of  his  own  lan- 
guage, words  that  appealed  with  fervour  to  the  gods  to 
help  him  stay  the  desire  of  the  body. 

When  they  once  more  rose  to  their  feet  and  stole  forth 


192  SESTRINA 

into  the  broad  light  of  the  tropic  day,  Sestrina's  head 
was  bowed,  and  many  conflicting  thoughts  haunted  her 
mind.  As  they  left  those  sacred  portals,  the  whole 
isle,  the  seas,  the  universe  itself,  hymned  forth  an  echo 
of  the  deep-voiced  anthem  which  they  had  just  heard. 
The  choruses  of  the  feathered  lyrists  of  the  trees  were 
pregnant  with  meaning.  As  Hawahee's  majestic  form 
stalked  along,  Sestrina  stayed  her  running  feet.  With 
finger  to  her  lips  she  stood  listening  to  the  music  of  the 
palm  groves  :  for,  as  they  moaned  to  her  ears,  she  half 
fancied  that  phantom  sea-caves  existed  somewhere  up 
in  their  green,  foamy  heights.  Crimson-winged  lories 
and  sulphur-crested  cockatoos  wheeled  over  her  head 
as  she  once  more  hurried  after  Hawahee.  She  stared 
up  at  the  sky,  and  as  the  flocks  of  birds  whirled  away, 
they  looked  like  clusters  of  wind-blown  leaves  of  many 
hues  glittering  in  the  sunlight — as  though  the  tropical 
flowers  of  that  island  world  had  taken  wing  ! 

"  The  gods  are  happy  this  day,"  said  Hawahee  as  he, 
too,  loitered,  and  Sestrina  gazed  shoreward  with  en- 
raptured eyes.  She  had  come  to  love  the  poetry  of  the 
distant  seas  and  all  the  brooding  loveliness  of  nature's 
handiwork  around  her.  Day  by  day  she  had  stood  upon 
those  little  shores  watching  the  infinite  expanse  of  ocean 
as  the  tiny  waves  of  the  calm  seas  crept  up  to  her  feet. 
Those  waves  seemed  her  children  :  with  strange  delight 
she  watched  them  run  up  the  shore  to  her  feet,  and  with 
sorrow  saw  them  toss  their  foamy  heads,  as  though  in 
despair,  ere  they  crept  back  to  the  homeless  deep  again. 
And  again,  at  night  she  would  stand  on  the  shore  by  the 
dark  ocean  and  the  imaged  stars,  staring  with  such 
reverence  as  one  might  feel  when  kneeling  in  prayer  in 
some  mighty  cathedral.  She  had  inherited  the  imagina- 
tion and  superstition  of  her  fanatic  father  in  diviner 
tone.  Consequently  she  had  been  easily  influenced  by 
the  grandeur  of  Hawahee's  solemn  faith. 

Even  as  they  reached  the  heights  by  the  valley  she 
bowed  her  head  in  reverence  as  the  winds  swept  inland 


SESTRINA  193 

and  the  murmuring  music  of  the  shells  was  wafted  to 
her  ears. 

"  Sestra,  the  music  is  deep-voiced  to-day,  and  so 
'twill  be  well  to  visit  our  brothers,"  said  Hawahee. 

Saying  this,  he  and  Sestrina  turned  their  footsteps 
and  walked  up  to  the  palm-sheltered  spot  where  Lupo, 
Steno,  Rohana  and  the  rest  lay  buried. 

Each  one  of  the  lepers  had  died  with  Hawahee's 
blessing  to  soothe  their  souls.  For  when  they  were  at 
last  stricken  deep  by  the  ravages  of  the  terrible  scourge, 
they  had  crept  up  to  Hawahee's  and  Sestrina's  dwellings 
and  begged  forgiveness — forgiveness  which  had  at  once 
been  given.  Lupo  had  been  the  first  to  go.  He  had 
stood  on  the  shore  wringing  his  hands  as  the  clear  light 
of  death  and  the  infinite  came  to  his  soul  in  place  of  the 
dark  of  his  stricken,  blind  eyes.  Sestrina  had  at  once 
run  down  the  shore,  and  had  whispered  soothing  words 
into  his  ears,  telling  him  there  was  nothing  to  forgive, 
that  she  was  his  dear,  erring  sister.  And  when  the  dying 
man  had  turned  his  face  first  to  the  dim  horizon  and  then 
to  the  right  and  left,  ere  he  located  Sestrina,  he  had 
fallen  on  his  knees  and  wept  like  a  child.  Sestrina's 
kind  words  and  wishes  for  his  soul  had  greatly  comforted 
him  as  he  knelt  upon  the  shore  wrapped  in  the  shroud 
of  death,  ready  for  his  soul's  last  hurry  to  the  stars. 
Rohana,  the  last  to  go,  had  shaken  his  fist  at  the  sky 
and  cursed  the  gods  ! — ere  he  fell  a  huddled  heap  on  the 
sands.  Steno  and  his  two  blind  comrades  had  moaned 
awhile,  and  had  then  fallen  asleep  like  children  with 
tired  heads.  And  so,  Hawahee  and  Sestrina's  heart 
felt  sad  enough  as  they  knelt  by  the  graves  of  their  dead 
comrades  and  prayed.  Then  they  quickly  passed  back 
by  the  reefs  on  their  way  home  and  parted,  each  going 
to  their  self-allotted  tasks — Sestrina  to  her  domestic 
duties  and  Hawahee  to  his  mat-weaving. 

As  soon  as  she  had  finished  her  day's  toil,  she  went 
down  to  the  beach,  and  jumping  in  her  canoe  paddled 
out  beyond  the  reefs.     Hawahee  had  made  that  small 
N 


194  SESTRINA 

craft.    His  delight  had  ever  been  to  do  all  in  his  power 
to  make  the  castaway  girl  as  happy  as  possible. 

As  Sestrina  paddled  along,  she  turned  the  small  prow 
shoreward  again,  and  hugged  the  reefs.  Then  she 
stopped,  and  placing  her  paddle  in  the  canoe  took  her 
flute  from  the  folds  of  her  robe  and  started  to  play  the 
weird  sweet  melodies  which  Hawahee  had  taught  her. 
Her  eyes  brightened  as  she  played  on,  for  the  winds  in 
the  palms  that  sheltered  the  blue  lagoons  sighed  a  deep 
effective  accompaniment  to  her  sylvan  music.  The 
light  of  reality  faded,  and  her  mind  became  wrapped 
in  a  robe  of  mystery.  She  became  one  with  the  sea,  the 
winds  and  the  tropical  loveliness  around  her.  Her 
unerring  clock,  the  travelling  sun,  had  already  stooped 
to  set  its  golden  seal  on  the  brow  of  the  departing  day. 
She  ceased  to  pipe  her  songs  as  she  looked  seaward  and 
watched  the  melancholy  eyes  of  day  on  the  western  sea 
horizon,  touching  the  ocean  with  ineffable  splendour 
ere  departing  into  the  sleeping  lake  of  all  the  years  since 
the  birth  of  Time.  She  came  near  to  tears  as  she 
watched  the  first  shadows  fall  and  saw  the  great  flocks 
of  birds  come  speeding  through  the  distant  horizon. 
On,  on  they  came  in  their  migrating  flight,  looking  like 
fleets  of  swiftly  paddled  sky-canoes.  She  looked  up 
and  saw  their  curling  wings  hasten  over  the  isle,  and 
could  hear  their  faint  dismal  mutterings  ere  they  faded 
to  the  southward,  leaving  a  deeper  loneliness  behind. 
It  was  such  sights  that  awakened  the  pagan  mystery  of 
her  soul  and  made  her  a  natural  child  of  the  universe. 
Even  as  she  watched  the  birds  fade  away,  she  recom- 
menced her  flute-playing  and  paddled  close  to  the  shores 
to  seek  mysterious  company.  For  Hawahee  had  told 
her  many  strange  legends,  and  one  said  :  "  The  souls 
of  the  dead  Hawaiian  men  and  women  live  in  the  shapes 
of  birds  and  sing  tender  melodies  for  the  ears  of  those 
they  loved  when  in  mortal  shape,  and  wail  in  bitterness 
to  the  ears  of  those  who  wronged  them  when  they 
roamed  as  mortals  on  the  earth." 


SESTRINA  195 

And  so,  as  Sestrina  laid  her  paddle  in  her  canoe  and 
piped  her  flute,  and  heard  the  soft,  Lydian  music  of  the 
wind  amongst  the  leaves,  and  mutterings  of  cockatoos, 
she  fancied  the  dead  lepers  spoke  to  her.  Then,  as  the 
shadows  deepened  to  the  westward,  she  saw  shadowy 
tresses  toss  as  the  winds  stirred  the  dark-fingered  palm 
leaves,  revealing  to  her  watching  eyes,  visionary  faces 
of  beautiful  women  who  gazed  in  silent  sorrow  upon 
her.  Where  had  she  seen  those  faces  before  ? — dim, 
remembered  faces  of  those  who  had  watched  over  her 
in  her  childhood.  Ere  the  stars  came  over  the  seas,  she 
swiftly  paddled  to  the  shore. 

"  I'm  feeling  strangely  sad  to-night.  What  has 
happened  to  me  that  I  should  fear  the  wrath  of  Atua, 
Kauhilo  and  kind  Pele  ?  "  she  murmured,  as  she  lay 
down  on  her  soft  couch  for  the  night. 

Then  she  heard  Rohana  shout,  "  Atua  Hawee ! 
Hawaee !  0  Pele !  "  and  knew  that  Hawahee  was 
placing  ripe  corn  into  the  cockatoo's  cage  ere  he  retired 
to  bed  in  his  homestead  just  across  the  slope. 

"  I  am  safe,  for  he  sleeps  !  "  she  whispered,  as  though 
in  fright,  to  herself.  Then  she  crept  from  her  couch, 
and  kneeling  by  the  old  photograph  of  Pere  Chaco,  that 
hung  on  the  wooden  wall,  she  forgot  the  shell-gods  and 
prayed  f everently  to  the  great,  merciful  God  of  her  child- 
hood. 

/ 
CHAPTER  II 

THE  next  day  Hawahee  walked  into  the  space  of 
Sestrina's  palm-sheltered  kitchen,  and  said : 
"  Sestra,  I  have  made  these  things  for  you."  Sestrina 
gazed  in  surprise  and  delight  on  the  delicate  articles 
which  the  Hawaiian  had  placed  on  her  wickerwork 
table.  For  Hawahee  had,  with  great  patience  and 
artistic  toil,  weaved  a  beautiful  tappa  bodice  and 
tasselled  rami  (native  skirt)  for  her,  and  had  also  plaited 


196  SESTRINA 

pretty  sandals  for  her  feet.  She  examined  the  primi- 
tive, but  picturesque,  garments  with  great  delight.  The 
old  skirt  which  she  had  made  from  the  bundle  of  table- 
cloths which  had  been  found  in  the  Bette  Isle's  cuddy 
was  very  much  tattered,  and  there  was  no  more  cloth 
left. 

"  Aloah,  oh,  Hawahee,  'tis  good  of  you,"  she  said,  as 
she  stooped  forward  and  picked  up  a  beautifully  plaited 
pair  of  sandals.  "  Why,  you  have  made  two  pairs  of 
sandals !  " 

Hawahee,  who  had  been  standing  near  with  smiling 
face  over  the  girl's  delight,  gave  a  startled  jump  forward 
and  snatched  the  second  pair  of  sandals  from  her  hands, 
as  though  he  had  not  intended  the  second  pair  for  her, 
and  had  placed  them  in  the  parcel  by  mistake.  Sestrina 
gazed  in  wonder.  Not  once  in  all  the  years  of  their 
castaway  life  had  she  seen  Hawahee  look  so  worried  and 
confused.  "  Why  had  he  taken  the  second  pair  of 
sandals  from  her  like  that  ?  Why  look  so  shamefaced, 
so  worried,  as  he  stood  there  with  his  head  bowed  as 
though  in  guilt,  and  then  slipped  the  sandals  into  the 
folds  of  his  native  jerkin  ?  If  the  sandals  were  not 
meant  for  her  feet,  who  was  her  rival  on  that  uninhabited 
isle,  where  only  she  and  Hawahee  dwelt  ?  They  could 
not  be  meant  for  Pele,  for  the  goddess  had  feet  four 
times  the  size  of  her  own."  And  as  Sestrina  stood 
wondering,  Hawahee  stalked  away,  went  across  the 
small  slope  and  entered  his  vine-covered  homestead. 

"  How  foolish  of  me.  He  means  to  present  them  to 
me  some  other  day,  when  these  are  worn  out,"  Sestrina 
murmured,  as  she  gazed  in  delight  on  the  tiny,  delicately 
weaved  sandals  which  she  still  held  in  her  hand. 

Just  before  sunset  on  that  same  day.  Sestrina  came 
back  from  her  swim  in  the  lagoon  and  stood  before 
Hawahee,  who  at  once  stopped  chopping  firewood  and 
gazed  upon  her.  A  deep  light  shone  in  Sestrina's  eyes 
as  she  stood  before  the  Hawaiian  arrayed  in  the  tappa 
bodice,  rami  and  sandals. 


SESTRINA  197 

On  seeing  the  light  in  the  girl's  eyes  Hawahee's  eyes 
also  brightened,  the  lines  of  care  at  once  smoothed  from 
his  brow.  The  next  moment  Sestrina  blushed  deeply 
and  realised,  for  the  first  time,  that,  however  hard  a 
woman  strives  to  conceal  the  secret  thoughts  of  her 
heart,  her  eyes  must  give  her  away. 

"  I  have  placed  the  things  on,  you  see,  Hawahee," 
she  murmured,  as  she  dropped  her  glance  and  gazed 
down  at  her  sandalled  feet. 

"  Thou  hast  grown  more  beautiful  than  I  dreamed, 
Sestra,"  said  Hawahee,  as  he  gazed  on  the  perfect 
symmetry  of  his  lone  companion's  form.  True  enough 
the  loose  picturesque  bodice,  short-sleeved  and  low  in 
the  shoulders  and  again  below  the  throat's  fullness,  and 
the  skirt,  also,  had  been  artfully  devised  so  that  the 
beauty  of  her  figure  should  please  Hawahee's  eyes. 
The  flush  of  health,  the  oval,  dimpled  face,  the  coral  red 
lips  and  lustrous  eyes  might  well  have  brought  the  light 
of  admiration  to  the  eyes  of  men  placed  in  less  loneliness 
than  that  which  passed  over  the  Hawaiian's  solitary 
days.  Perhaps  it  was  the  glory  of  Sestrina's  mass  of 
hair  that  made  her  look  like  some  wonderful  picture 
that  represented  the  zenith  of  woman's  physical  loveli- 
ness. But  the  perfect  beauty  of  Sestrina  gleamed  in 
the  earnest,  spiritual  light  of  her  eyes,  the  expression 
on  the  tremulous  mouth,  and  the  calm  pure  brow.  It 
was  a  lovely  face.  The  Fates  seemed  to  have  meditated 
deeply  over  her  soul's  welfare  when  they  fashioned  that 
faultless  face  and  remembered  all  that  destiny  had 
planned,  and  the  temptation  that  would  beset  her  path. 
As  she  stood  there,  the  winds  tossed  her  disordered  hair 
till  the  tresses  fell  in  confusion  over  her  face,  hiding  her 
own  confusion  as  they  floated  out  and  went  rippling 
down  far  below  her  waist.  A  great  fire  was  burning  in 
the  Hawaiian's  eyes  as  he  continued  to  gaze  upon  her. 
Sestrina  returned  the  gaze  in  a  steady  glance.  She 
began  to  see  Wow  the  man  felt  for  her.  He  put  forth 
his  hand,  and  taking  her  soft  ringers  in  his  own  placed 


198  SESTRINA 

them  near  his  lips,  then  immediately  dropped  her  hand 
again.  It  was  a  long,  long  time  since  he  had  touched 
her  ;  for  though  she  had  often  approached  him,  he  had 
ever  warned  her  of  the  danger  she  ran.  For  though 
the  leper-spot  had  almost  healed,  he  knew  the  dreadful 
scourge  lurked  in  his  body. 

"  Ah,  wahine,  I  thank  the  gods  for  giving  such  &  one 
as  you  to  dwell  here  with  me  in  my  sorrow,"  murmured 
Hawahee  as  he  sighed  and  stared  seaward. 

"  Then,  why  have  you  placed  the  flag  out  again  ? 
Do  you  want  me  to  leave  you  for  ever  ?  "  queried 
Sestrina  as  she  hung  her  head,  pleased  to  say  something 
as  the  Hawaiian's  glowing  eyes  once  more  stared  upon 
her.  Sestrina  had  referred  to  the  tappa-cloth  signal 
flag  which  had  flown  for  years  from  the  dead  palm  top 
out  on  the  promontory's  edge.  For  Sestrina,  acting  on 
a  sudden  impulse,  had  a  week  before,  run  out  to  the 
promontory's  edge  and  climbing  the  palm  had  taken 
the  flag  down  ! 

"  No,  I  would  not  lose  thee,  beloved  Sestra ;  but 
still,  I  feel  worried  and  much  sad  in  the  thought  of  the 
day  which  must  come — when  I  am  not  here  !  " 

"  Not  here  !  "  said  Sestrina,  great  alarm  in  her  voice. 

"  The  gods  may  take  me,  wahine.  For  thou  as  well 
as  they  know  that  the  palms  grow  on  and  the  seas  roll 
for  ever,  but  man  departs."  So  saying,  Hawahee  sighed 
deeply  and  broke  a  piece  of  firewood  on  his  knee.  Then 
continuing,  he  said  :  "  Wahine,  thou  art  a  woman  and 
I  a  man,  and  your  beauty  sears  my  heart  with  thoughts 
that  bring  grief  to  the  soul  when  I  hear  the  mouths  of 
the  gods  warn  me  from  their  temple  in  the  valley  as  I 
lie  sleepless  in  the  night.  And,  Sestra,  I  see  that  too 
in  your  eyes  which  tells  me  that  I  may  speak  this  way 
to  you." 

Sestrina  listened  with  bowed  head.  She  knew  what 
the  Hawaiian  meant.  And  so,  through  the  innocence 
and  natural  modesty  of  her  life  and  her  deep  reverence 
for  Atua,  Pele  and  Kauhilo,  she  was  enabled  to  calmly 


SESTRINA  199 

take  the  Hawaiian's  hand  and  say :  "  Dear  Hawahee, 
we  will  kneel  together  and  pray  deeply  before  the  shell- 
altars  asking  that  we  may  be  made  strong  in  the  hour 
of  temptation."  Then,  as  she  leaned  forward  and 
examined  a  small  blue  flower  that  grew  by  the  kitchen 
door,  she  said  in  a  tremulous,  hesitating  voice  s  "  I  too, 
at  times,  feel  that  thou  art  more  than  a  dear  brother  to 
me.  And  I  say,  0  Hawahee,  this  feeling  troubles  me, 
since  I  know  it  is  the  love  of  the  flesh  and  not  of  the  soul." 

"  Since  'tis  only  love  of  the  flesh  and  not  of  the  soul, 
I  will  leave  thee  and  attend  to  the  yam  patch,"  said 
Hawahee  with  a  catch  in  his  throat.  Then  he  strode 
away  with  deep  sadness  in  his  heart. 

Sestrina  gazed  tenderly  after  him.  Then  she  sat 
down  by  her  kitchen  door  and  wept. 

In  a  little  while  Sestrina  rose  and  wandered  down  to 
the  shore.  As  she  stood  by  the  tropic,  silent  sea,  her 
mind  went  back,  far  away  into  the  past.  Once  more 
she  looked  fondly  into  the  memory  of  eyes  that  had  long 
years  ago  fired  her  girlish  mind  with  romantic  dreams 
and  feverish  delight.  It  was  a  strange,  deep,  solemn 
memory  that  came  to  the  girl.  The  years  of  hopeless 
longing  had  imparadised  her  past.  It  was  as  though 
sorrow  and  remembrance  had,  through  some  spiritual 
alchemy  of  the  mind,  transmuted  her  memory  of  other 
days  till  now  her  past  sparkled  as  the  spiritual  light  of 
carbon  shines  when  the  forces  of  nature  have  changed 
it  to  the  diamond's  light  divine.  It  was  the  light  never 
seen  on  sea  or  land,  and  as  vivid  to  Sestrina  as  the 
imaginative  flash  of  a  great  poet's  mind  when  he  fancies 
he  remembers  the  old  stars  that  shone  over  the  primeval 
seas  before  creation.  Sestrina  not  only  possessed  this 
poetic  imagination,  but  she  also  could  hear  the  whisper- 
ings of  her  own  thoughts  ere  they  left  her  and  faded  like 
exiled  music  into  the  spaces  around  her ! 

Through  living  for  years  under  the  magnetic,  spiritual 
fervour  of  Hawahee's  weird  personality,  Sestrina's  mind 
had  gradually  reflected,  caught  the  weird  light,  the 


200  SESTRINA 

wonderful  spiritual  telepathy  which  enabled  the  Hawaiian 
castaway  to  converse  with  her  in  her  sleep,  as  he  lay  alone 
in  his  silent  hut  beyond  the  yam  patch  ! 

For  some  time  past,  Sestrina  had  awakened  and 
listened  in  fright  and  wondered  whether  she  dreamed  ; 
for  she  could  hear  mysterious,  unfathomable,  hidden 
voices,  and  instinctively  seemed  to  know  that  they  were 
deep  thoughts  haunting  Hawahee's  mind  as  he  dreamed 
in  his  silent  hut  over  the  slope.  From  those  things 
which  Hawahee  said  to  her  at  times,  she  knew  he  had 
such  power,  but  it  was  a  revelation  to  her  to  find  that 
she  too  possessed  so  wonderful  a  gift.  It  had  worried 
her  mind  at  first.  She  put  the  cause  down  to  her  own 
religious  fervour  and  the  long  years  of  listening  to  the 
murmuring  shells  of  the  ocean  and  the  deep  bass  voices 
of  Kauhilo,  Atua  and  Pele.  Sometimes  she  would  stand 
on  the  shore  and  dream  till  a  strange  feeling  seemed  to 
exalt  her  soul,  some  ecstasy  of  melancholy  that  made 
her  feel  a  wondrous  kinship  with  the  universe  around  her. 
At  such  moments  she  would  gaze  seaward  and  dreaming, 
fancy  that  her  meditations  had  strangely  taken  wing ! 
And,  incredible  as  it  may  seem,  the  hovering  sea  birds, 
far  out  over  the  ocean,  would  suddenly  speed  away  as 
though  something  unseen  had  suddenly  touched  their 
wings  !  Yes,  out  there  on  the  vast  ocean  solitude  ! 
It  can  only  be  supposed  that  in  some  simple,  but 
mysterious,  unexplainable  way,  the  girl's  yearning, 
passionate  thoughts  really  did  take  shape,  and  in  spiritual 
air- waves  left  her  soul  and  flew  away,  went  roaming  the 
seas  and  passed  through  the  dim  oce'an  horizons  of  her 
solitary  isle  to  seek  and  speak  to  those  whom  she  had 
loved  in  the  half-forgotten  past. 

And  so  Sestrina  was  not  greatly  surprised  when 
Hawahee  came  back,  after  his  sudden  departure  for  the 
yam  patch,  and  said  :  "  Who  is  this  man  who  haunts 
your  dreams  so  much  by  night,  Sestra,  he  whose  eyes 
dwell  in  the  bosom  of  your  imagination,  aye,  so  deeply 
that  the  gleam  sears  my  lonely  soul  like  fire  ?  " 


SESTR1NA  201 

Sestrina,  who  had  often  lain  on  her  lonely  couch  and 
listened  with  unbounded  astonishment  to  the  soft 
passionate  murmurings  of  Hawahee's  sleepless  nights, 
made  no  reply,  but  hung  her  head  like  a  child  ashamed. 

"  Tell  me,  Sestra.  Though  I  have  asked  the  gods 
to  keep  my  deeper  thoughts  from  you,  they  have  surely 
let  you  hear  those  voiceless  words  that  tell  of  my  love, 
all  that  my  sorrowing  soul  feels  for  you." 

Then  Sestrina,  gazed  down  at  her  new  sandals,  and 
said  :  "  Sometimes  I  have  heard  strange  voices  in  the 
night  that  told  me  strange  things,  and  these  voices 
frighten  me  ;  what  does  it  all  mean,  Hawahee  ?  " 

"  What  hast  thou  heard,  0  Sestra  mine  ?  "  said 
Hawahee  as  he  too  turned  his  face  away  and  sighed. 

And  then  Sestrina,  seeing  the  man's  sorrowful  expres- 
sion, said  with  the  brevity  of  a  woman's  quick  wit, 
"  Perhaps  'tis  only  your  prayers  which  I  have  heard, 
for  the  winds  blow  soft  in  the  night  and  could  easily 
drift  stray,  sad  words  from  your  lips  to  my  ears." 

"  Ah,  wahine,  Sestra  mine,"  murmured  that 
strange,  handsome  Hawaiian  as  he  gazed  steadily  away 
from  the  girl  as  though  he  dare  not  trust  himself  to  gaze 
into  the  dark,  unfathomable  lustre  of  her  soulful  eyes. 

Then  once  again  he  spoke  :  "  Tell  me,  Sestra,  who  is 
he  that  haunts  your  slumbers  when  the  winds  sigh  in 
the  palms  and  Pele's  voice  echoes  down  the  valley's 
hollows  ?  " 

"  He  is  one  whom  I  met  long  years  ago,  one  who 
said  he  loved  me,"  and  as  Sestrina  said  this,  she  turned 
her  eyes  away,  for  they  were  full  of  mist.  But  Hawahee 
had  seen. 

"  I  am  a  leper,  the  hated  of  the  White  God's  people." 
His  voice  was  full  of  bitterness.  Never  had  Sestrina 
heard  him  speak  in  such  a  manner  before. 

"Remember  the  gods,  Pele  and  Atua,"  whispered 
Sestrina  as  she  gazed  tenderly,  helplessly  on  the  man. 
As  she  stood  there  and  the  soft  winds  caressed  her  tresses, 
blowing  them  about  her  face  and  over  her  shoulders, 


202  SESTRINA 

the  man's  eyes  burned  with  the  light  of  a  soft,  hungry 
fire. 

Sestrina  turned  away  for  a  moment  and  stirred  the 
cooking  cakes  over  the  galley  fire,  then  she  sat  down  on 
her  stool,  and  looking  straight  into  Hawahee's  face, 
said  in  a  petulant  voice,  "  So  you  would  like  me  to  be 
rescued  from  this  isle  and  taken  back  to  the  great 
world  that  I  have  half  forgotten,  eh  ?  " 

"  Wahine,  why  say  these  things,"  replied  Hawahee, 
who  well  knew  why  Sestrina  spoke  so.  Then  he  looked 
intently  into  the  girl's  face  and  said  in  a  mournful 
voice,  "  Ah,  Sestrina,  I  would  you  were  as  jealous  as 
you  imagine  you  are.  You  know  well  enough  that  I 
wish  thee  to  remain  on  this  isle." 

"  Then,  why  have  you  gone  and  placed  the  flag  on 
the  palm  top  again  after  I  went  and  took  it  down  ? 
A  ship  may  pass,  and  were  the  flag  seen,  men  would 
surely  take  me  away,"  said  Sestrina,  as  she  dashed  her 
coco-nut  goblet  at  Hawahee's  feet. 

"  Attend  to  thy  dreams,  and  not  to  the  flag !  "  said 
Hawahee,  as  he  kicked  the  coco-nut  goblet,  and  behaved 
like  an  angry  schoolboy.  Then  seeing  how  foolishly 
they  were  behaving,  the  Hawaiian  forced  a  smile  to  his 
lips,  and  with  a  bitter  note  trembling  in  his  voice,  said  : 
"  Sestrina,  should  you  be  taken  away  on  a  ship  I  could 
easily  die.  One  thrust  with  this  knife  into  the  heart 
that  worries  about  you,  and  I  would  be  at  rest." 

Sestrina  gazed  in  consternation  into  Hawahee's 
flashing  eyes.  A  great  shadow  fell  on  her  heart.  She 
well  knew  that  Hawahee  was  in  earnest  when  he  said 
such  things.  "  I  would  sooner  dwell  on  this  isle  for 
ever  than  such  an  end  should  come  to  you  after  all 
your  kindness  to  me,"  she  murmured  as  she  gazed  up 
into  the  man's  face,  deliberately  revealing  the  tears 
that  came  swiftly  to  her  eyes. 

Hawahee's  heart  was  thrilled  with  a  sweet  yet  sad 
joy  as  Sestrina  spoke.  His  eyes  brightened.  And  as 
Sestrina  stood  up  and  touched  him  softly  on  the  shoulder, 


SESTRINA  203 

her  tresses,  blown  by  the  wind,  touched  his  face,  send- 
ing a  deep  thrill  through  him.  His  voice  became 
musical  and  deep  with  subdued  passion.  "  Beloved 
wahine,  'tis  strange  that  I  have  been  blind  to  your 
wondrous  beauty  of  the  flesh  till  now." 

"  It  is,"  murmured  Sestrina  in  her  embarrassment, 
not  knowing  what  she  was  saying  at  the  moment. 
Then  she  smiled,  and  Hawahee  smiled  also  as  the  girl 
glanced  down  on  her  pretty  sandalled  feet. 

"  The  gods  will  not  be  angry,  Sestrina,  if  we  only 
speak  as  lovers.  Pele  knoweth  my  heart  well,  and  no 
anger  would  come  to  her  heart  if  we  imagine  only  our 
love  for  one  another.  For  I  say  unto  thee,  that  the 
love  ol  the  imagination  is  greater  than  the  reality,"  so 
spake  Hawahee  as  in  the  religious  fervour  of  his  soul 
he  tried  to  seek  comfort  for  his  own  sad  thoughts. 

Sestrina,  thinking  that  Hawahee,  who  spoke  so  nobly, 
might  see  the  passionate  light  that  gleamed  in  her  eyes, 
walked  to  the  shade  of  the  small  banyan  tree,  and  said  : 
"  Hark,  the  great  strange  birds  are  singing  in  the 
bread-fruits,  yonder."  And  as  Hawahee  and  Sestrina 
gazed  over  the  small  slope  by  the  kitchen  outhouse,  they 
saw  the  big  crimson  winged  birds,  that  had  arrived  at 
the  isle  a  week  before,  and  who  ever  since  had  settled 
on  the  trees  by  their  home  at  sunset,  croaking,  chanting 
weird,  sometimes  dismal  notes. 

"  Yes,  the  birds  have  come,"  murmured  Hawahee. 
Then  he  gazed  softly  into  Sestrina's  face,  and  seeing 
the  dark  rings  beneath  her  tired  eyes,  he  whispered, 
"  Sestra,  sweet  sister,  you  are  tired  and  must  go  to 
rest."  Then  with  well  simulated  calmness  he  strode 
slowly  across  the  patch,  away  from  the  loveliness  that 
made  his  heart  stray  from  the  gods  in  the  valley. 
Sestrina,  who  had  always  been  so  neat  in  her  domestic 
affairs,  forgot  to  wash  the  wooden  platters  and  coco-nut- 
shell goblets  ere  she  retired  into  her  primitive  chamber. 
It  was  a  neatly  furnished  chamber  that  Hawahee  had 
built  and  arranged  for  her.  Long  ago  they  had  pulled 


204  SESTRINA 

the  first  frail  shelter  down.  The  couch  was  made  of  well 
dried  wood  and  fastened  with  strong  sennet.  The  bed 
mattress  was  made  of  tappa-cloth  and  stuffed  with  the 
softest  seaweed.  On  the  wall  were  one  or  two  pictures 
which  had  been  saved  from  the  wreck.  Just  over  her 
bed  hung  the  faded  photographs  of  her  mother  and  the 
Catholic  priest,  Pere  Chaco,  which  she  had  taken  from 
the  palace  in  her  hurried  flight  from  Port-au-Prince  ten 
years  before. 

For  a  loi\g  time  Sestrina  could  not  sleep.  Woman- 
hood had  given  birth  to  strange  thoughts  in  her  worried 
mind.  "  Had  not  Hawahee  been  a  noble  friend  through 
the  long  years  of  sorrow  ?  "  And  as  she  reflected,  she 
felt  anger  for  the  gods  enter  her  heart  that  they  should 
have  a  deeper  place  in  Hawahee's  heart  than  she  ap- 
peared to  have.  Then,  again,  she  remembered,  and 
sighed  over  her  deepest  dreams.  "  Why  not  give  her 
love  to  Hawahee  and  make  him  happy  ?  What  had 
the  gods  done  for  him  or  for  her  ?  What  mattered 
anything  in  that  terrible  isolation  of  an  isle  set  in 
apparently  endless  seas  ?  "  And  as  the  castaway  girl 
dreamed  on,  the  winds  swept  up  the  shore  and  all  the 
palms  resounded  as  though  with  one  voice.  Again  she 
can  hear  the  moaning  of  the  shells  in  the  valley.  Once 
more  the  terror  of  superstition  seizes  her  heart.  "  0 
Pele  !  Atua  !  Kauhilo  !  forgive  me  for  such  thoughts,'* 
she  cried. 

And  as  the  music  of  the  winds  soothed  her  soul, 
slumber  touched  her  eyes,  and  she  stole  off  into  those 
isles  of  troubled  dreams  that  are  washed  by  the  lulling, 
soundless  seas  of  sleep. 


CHAPTER  III 

Come  to  me  in  my  dreams,  and  then  Fll  hear 

The  music  of  your  voice  steal  like  a  stream 

Thro'  some  old  forest  where  like  thirsty  deer 

My  thoughts  unll  haunt  the  banks — drink  deep  the  dream  I 

Come  when  my  night  full  of  deep  loneliness 

Sighs  all  its  stars  across  the  dreaming  skies, 

Till  memory's  ocean  mirrors  Juippiness — 

My  heaven  with  all  its  half -forgotten  eyes. 

NEXT  morning  Hawahee  and  Sestrina  went,  as 
usual,  and  prayed  before  the  gods  of  the  shell- 
temple.  No  sadder  sight  could  be  imagined  than  the 
sight  of  the  two  lonely  castaways  kneeling  there,  in  the 
faith  born  of  superstitious  fear  and  misery,  before  those 
solemn-faced  figures  which  were  sombre  manifestations 
of  Hawahee's  pagan  creed. 

Sestrina's  small  delicate  form,  her  hair  rippling  down 
her  back,  and  Hawahee,  tall  and  broad-shouldered, 
kneeling  by  her  side,  like  some  Phidias  before  Olympian 
Zeus  and  his  colossal  vassals,  made  a  symbolical  picture 
which  might  well  have  appealed  to  a  beneficent  Omni- 
potence. Their  statues  were  dwarfed  to  pigmy-like 
proportions  as  they  knelt  in  humbleness  before  those 
herculean,  solemn  high-domed-headed  gods  that  stood 
on  either  side  of  the  divinely  majestic  solemn-voiced 
goddess  Pele.  How  mellow  was  her  voice,  for  the  wind, 
drifting  from  the  south-west,  came  sweeping  down  the 
leafy  valley  and  entered  the  convolutions  of  her  pearly 
lips  with  seolian  cunning  and  murmuring  sweetness. 

As  soon  as  they  had  left  the  temple  Hawahee  pro- 
posed that  they  should  take  a  trip  together  and  search 
for  sea-gulls'  eggs  on  the  other  side  of  the  isle.  It  was 
only  about  half  an  hour's  walk  across  the  island. 
Sestrina,  who  was  never  so  happy  as  when  roaming 
about  the  tropical  loveliness  of  that  solitary  world, 

205 


206  SESTRINA 

clapped  her  hands  with  delight.  When  they  arrived 
on  the  cooler  elevation  of  the  palm-clad  hills  in  the 
centre  of  the  isle,  the  sun  was  high  in  the  sky. 

"  How  sweet  is  the  smell  of  the  scented  wind,"  said 
Sestrina,  as  she  stood  on  the  height  and  felt  the  cool 
scent-laden  breeze  as  it  stirred  the  leafy  boughs  of  the 
mango  and  breadfruit  trees.  Standing  up  there  they 
could  see  the  far-off  curling  waves  running  up  the  shores 
around  their  solitary  isle.  To  the  eastward  they  could 
see  the  two  huge  rocks  that  looked  like  two  vast  mono- 
liths standing  by  the  sea.  Again  to  the  south-west  stood 
the  lightning-blasted  giant  breadfruit  trunk ;  its  one 
shrivelled  blackened  branch  resembled  a  mighty  human 
arm  that  ever  pointed  to  the  western  sky-line,  like  some 
weird  sign-post  pointing  the  way  towards  the  eternity 
of  the  blue  days  and  the  sad,  hesitating  sunsets. 

While  standing  there,  on  the  hills,  the  wind  gently 
touched  Sestrina's  tresses,  blowing  them  softly  out  till 
they  floated  against  Hawahee's  cheek. 

"  Sestra,  the  winds  are  my  friends  to-day,"  said 
Hawahee,  as  he  smiled  and  then  glanced  about  him  in 
an  observant  manner,  as  though  he  would  hide  his  own 
thoughts  from  himself. 

Then  he  pointed  to  the  shore,  far  behind  them,  and 
said  :  "  See,  I  have  taken  the  signal-flag  down." 

Sestrina  turned  her  head,  also,  and  noticed  that  the 
old  tappa  flag  no  longer  flew  from  the  top  of  the  palm 
on  the  promontory's  edge. 

"  'Tis  good  of  you,  Hawahee,  to  take  the  flag  down. 
I  well  know  that  you  have  taken  it  down  to  please  me." 

*'  True  enough,  wahine,"  the  man  replied. 

Sestrina  gazed  into  Hawahee's  face ;  the  fire  of 
passion  was  glowing  in  his  eyes.  She  swiftly  turned  her 
head  that  he  might  not  see  the  light  in  her  own  eyes. 
In  endeavouring  to  hide  her  face  from  her  companion 
she  slipped  and  fell  forward,  giving  a  startled  cry. 

"  Aue  !  "  cried  Hawahee.  He  had  rushed  forward — 
Sestrina  had  tumbled  into  a  small  hollow  by  the  bamboos. 


SESTRINA  207 

In  a  moment  he  was  beside  her.  She  lay  in  a  recumbent 
position,  her  dress  slightly  disarranged  as  she  lifted  her 
knee,  which  was  stained  with  blood. 

"Are  you  hurt,  0  Sestra?"  he  murmured.  His 
voice  sounded  hoarse  and  strange  to  Sestrina  as  he 
knelt  beside  her  and  gently  wiped  the  blood  from  the 
small  wound  where  a  thorn  had  torn  the  flesh.  Then 
he  proceeded  to  bind  the  knee  with  a  piece  of  tappa- 
cloth  which  he  had  hastily  torn  from  the  loose  sleeve  of 
his  jerkin.  "  Aue !  poor  wahine,"  he  sighed  as  he 
gently  twisted  the  bandage  round  and  round.  Hawahee'a 
hand  was  shaking.  A  flood  of  passion  nearly  over- 
whelmed his  senses.  All  the  noble  resolutions  which  he 
had  made  whilst  on  his  knees  before  his  gods  were  made 
in  vain ! 

"  Sestra  !  " 

"  Hawahee !  " 

The  next  moment  their  lips  met  in  a  long  impassioned 
kiss  !  Sestrina  made  an  attempt  to  rise.  The  full- 
blown, richly  scented,  crimson  tropic  flowers  shed  their 
leaves  over  her  as  her  head  fell  back  again  into  the  deep 
fern  grasses.  Her  eyes,  half  closed,  gave  a  quivering 
gleam  from  the  pupils,  just  visible  between  the  dark- 
lashed  eyelids,  that  were  slightly  apart,  like  a  sick 
baby's  when  it  sleeps. 

"  Hawahee,  my  knee  !  "  she  moaned  as  their  lips  met 
again  and  yet  again. 

He  still  knelt  beside  her,  and  lifting  her  slightly, 
clasped  her  to  his  bosom.  She  opened  her  eyes ; 
Hawahee  saw  a  deep,  earnest  light  in  their  depths. 
He  murmured  soft  fond  words  in  his  musical  language. 
Lifting  her  tresses,  in  the  throes  of  some  great  passion, 
he  buried  his  face  in  the  folds  of  her  hair,  touching  the 
shining  skeins  with  his  lips.  His  arms  stole  softly 
about  her  form.  He  felt  the  soft  heave  of  her  bosom 
as  she  placed  one  hand  over  her  eyes. 

"  Sestra,  how  beautiful  you  look,  the  wild  scents  of 
the  flowers  and  pulis  cling  to  your  tresses,"  he  whispered. 


208  SESTRINA 

A  cockatoo  in  the  palms  gave  a  dismal  croak  and 
fluttered  away.  The  winds  stirred  the  bamboo  thickets 
as  her  hair  floated  softly  against  his  face. 

"  Sestra,"  he  murmured.  His  voice  was  hoarse  and 
trembled.  He  touched  her  hand,  caressing  her  fingers 
with  his  own.  "  Wahine,  0  laki,  aloah  !  "  he  whispered. 
A  sigh  escaped  Sestrina's  lips  as  he  knelt  there,  beside  her. 

"  Hawahee,  let  me  go,  my  knee  stings." 

"  Sestra,  'tis  my  heart  that  stings  ;  let  me  stay,"  he 
replied. 

Sestrina's  gaze  met  his  own.  Again  she  inclined  her 
head,  and  placed  her  hand  over  her  eyes. 

"  Hawahee,  remember  I  am  weak,  I  am  a  woman  !  " 
she  sobbed.  Her  voice  seemed  to  awaken  the  Hawaiian 
fanatic  from  some  lovely  impassioned  dream.  He 
suddenly  stared  over  his  shoulder,  a  startled  look  in  his 
eyes.  Beads  of  sweat  stood  on  his  brow.  He  too  had 
something  to  remember — he  was  a  leper  !  And  as  he 
remembered,  he  distinctly  heard  the  warning,  moaning 
chimes  of  the  shells  and  the  gods  of  the  temple  of  the 
valley.  They  both  knelt  there,  listening,  fright  and 
misery  expressed  on  their  brows.  Hawahee  was  con- 
vinced, beyond  all  doubt,  that  the  gods  of  shadowland 
had  seen  his  danger,  had  warned  him. 

"  0  god  of  Langi,  0  Atua,  0  Pele  !  I  thank  thee,"  he 
cried  as  he  thought  how  near  to  sorrow  temptation 
had  brought  him  and  the  woman  he  loved  beyond  all 
earthly  passion. 

Sestrina  also  heard  the  solemn  warning  chimes  from 
the  valley  of  the  shell  altar.  She  rose  to  her  feet  and 
gazed  for  a  moment  in  wonder  on  Hawahee.  And  as 
she  noticed  the  reverence  for  the  gods  expressed  on  his 
face  and  in  his  calm  clear  eyes,  she  also  came  under  the 
influence  of  the  pagan  superstition  which  he  had  instilled 
into  her  heart.  Then  she  remembered,  and  leaning 
forward  in  a  great  pretence,  hid  her  face  from  the  man 
as  she  examined  her  injured  knee. 

Hawahee  gazed  on  her  inclined  form  for  a  second,  and 


SESTRINA  209 

» 

then  gazed  straight  up  at  the  sky  ;  and  there  was  misery 
in  his  eyes  as  he  watched  the  fast-flying  flock  of  migrating 
black  swans  as  they  came  over  the  ocean,  passed  over 
the  isle,  and  sped  on  their  trackless  flight.  Without 
glancing  at  Sestrina,  he  murmured  in  a  low  tone, 
"  Beloved  sister,  'tis  well  that  I  go  alone  to  seek  the 
sea-birds'  eggs."  Then,  fearing  his  own  weakness,  he 
hurried  away  from  Sestrina's  presence.  As  his  dignified, 
handsome  form  passed  between  the  palm  stems,  Sestrina 
gazed  after  him.  Tears  were  in  her  eyes  as  she  noticed 
his  bowed  head.  Then  she,  too,  hastened  away  and 
disappeared  in  the  Arcadian  shadows  of  the  pulus 
(dwarf  fern  trees)  and  palms. 


"  They  are  beautiful  eggs,"  murmured  Sestrina. 
Hawahee  had  returned  from  his  journey  and  had  laid 
the  full  basket  of  coloured  sea-birds'  eggs  down  at  her 
feet. 

"  Ah,  wahine,  thank  me  not,  'tis  a  pleasure  of  great 
love  to  gather  the  eggs  for  thee." 

"  Is  it,  Hawahee  ?  "  responded  Sestrina  as  her  down- 
cast eyes  studied  the  pretty  hand-plaited  ribbons  of  her 
sandals. 

"  Sestra,  'tis  happy  I  am,  that  I  can  still  call  thee 
sweet  sister,"  said  Hawahee  as  Sestrina  went  on  with 
her  work,  very  busy  cooking. 

Sestrina  made  no  reply  to  her  companion's  remark, 
but  placed  the  cooked  fish  in  the  platters.  Then  they 
sat  down  and  ate  their  meal  in  silence. 

"  Why  so  silent,  Sestra  ?  "  said  the  man  as  the 
woman  he  loved  avoided  his  eyes. 

Sestrina  made  no  reply,  but  simply  proceeded  to  pass 
the  tortoise-shell  comb  through  her  shining  tresses, 
combing  them  forward  so  that  they  hid  the  expression  of 
her  face  from  view. 

"  Aloah,   Sestra,   good  night,"   murmured  Hawahee. 
But  still  the  comb  moved  and  moved,  as  it  relentlessly 


210  SESTRINA 

tugged  the  tresses  till  they  fell  like  a  tent  about  the 
girl's  face  and  shoulders. 

"  Aloah  !  "  he  reiterated.  Then  he  turned  away  from 
the  veranda  and  passed  back  into  the  shadows.  And  as 
the  Hawaiian  entered  his  lonely  homestead,  he  heard  the 
shell-gods  moaning  their  murmuring  melodies.  There- 
upon, he  at  once  fell  on  his  knees,  and  thanked  all  the 
gods  and  the  great  White  God  who  had  helped  him  in  his 
weaknesses,  and  so  made  the  day  pass  without  sorrow. 

That  night  Sestrina  lay  sleepless  in  bed  thinking  of 
many  things  that  troubled  her.  The  moon  had  risen, 
and  as  she  looked  through  the  small  window-hole  above 
her  pillow,  she  could  see  the  far-off  ocean  and  the 
tumbling  silvered  waves  that  seemed  to  be  beating 
silently  over  the  shore  reefs.  One  thin  shaft  of  moon- 
light fell  slantwise  through  the  dark-fingered  palm 
leaves  by  her  door,  sending  a  mystic  radiance  across  her 
form  as  she  lay  there. 

"  I  cannot  sleep,"  she  murmured  as  she  rose  to  a 
sitting  attitude  and  gazed  on  the  faded  photographs 
on  the  wall.  Then  she  gave  a  start — a  shadow  had 
fallen  across  the  small  room,  obliterating  the  moon's 
flame  swiftly,  as  though  a  lamp  had  been  blown  out. 
She  gave  no  cry  of  fear  as  she  turned  her  head  and  saw 
Hawahee  standing  by  her  couch.  "  Why  come  to  me 
by  night  ?  "  she  asked  calmly  as  she  gazed  up  at  the 
sad  face  of  the  tall  Hawaiian,  who  gazed  in  silence, 
speaking  only  by  the  light  of  his  earnest  eyes. 

"  I  also,  like  the  stars,  cannot  sleep,  wahine,  dear 
sister,"  he  said,  as  the  woman  turned  her  head,  and  once 
more  a  slip  of  moonlight  touched  the  lovely  dishevelment 
of  her  shining  hair.  Her  eyes  were  bright.  One  arm 
lay  across  her  bosom,  the  other  inclined  upward  so 
that  her  head  could  rest  on  it  as  she  gazed  in  a  medita- 
tive way  at  the  solemn-faced  man. 

"  Sestra,  a  great  fire  burns  in  my  blood,  and  the  gods 
may  forget  me,"  said  Hawahee  softly,  a  note  of  deep 
sadness  in  his  voice.  "  Stare  not  in  my  face,  Sestra-." 


SESTRINA  211 

But  Sestrina  still  gazed,  and  saw  that  the  sight  of  her 
lying  there  had  awakened  a  deep  light  in  the  Hawaiian's 
eyes.  The  next  moment  she  had  drawn  the  soft,  deli- 
cately woven  tappa  sheet  higher,  so  that  her  bosom 
ami  throat  curves  were  concealed.  Hawahee,  noticing 
this  act  of  Sestrina's,  gazed  with  downcast  eyes  at  the 
floor,  as  though  in  shame.  Sestrina  immediately  put 
forth  her  arms,  and  said  :  "  Hawahee,  touch  my  lips 
again,  you  are  strong,  noble  and  brave." 

"  Hast  thou  forgotten  the  dreadful  kilia  ?  "  he  mur- 
mured as  he  reminded  her  of  the  risk  she  ran  through 
holding  his  hand. 

"  I  care  not  for  the  kilia,  or  for  anything  else  so  long 
as  you  remain  with  me,  and  keep  brave  and  strong,'* 
she  sighed,  as  she  too  turned  her  head  away  as  though 
she  dreaded  that  Hawahee  would  read  her  thoughts. 

"  Ah,  wahine,  I  have  come  from  my  couch  because 
I  heard  the  hidden  voices  whispering  echoes  of  your 
own  dreams  into  my  heart.  Be  brave  and  strong, 
Sestra,  and  desert  not  the  gods.  Pele's  voice  was  deep 
with  sorrow  this  night  when  I  knelt  before  her."  Then 
Hawahee  lifted  his  hand  and  said  :  "  The  shell-altars 
and  the  gods  are  speaking,  listen !  " 

And  as  they  both  listened,  they  heard  the  night  wind 
drifting  the  solemn  chant-chimes  of  Atua,  Kauhilo,  and 
Pele  across  the  slopes.  The  voices  sounded  deep  and 
solemn,  and  strangely  in  harmony  with  the  low  mono- 
tone of  the  seas  that  answered  along  the  shore.  Again 
they  kissed,  and  again  they  heard  the  god- voices  moan 
as  the  wind  swept  down  the  breadfruit  valley.  Hawahee, 
fanatic  as  he  was,  seemed  to  realise  at  that  moment  how 
he  had  toiled  for  years  to  create  gods  who  would  make 
his  heart  quake  with  fear  when  the  fruits  of  happiness 
and  desire  were  within  his  grasp.  He  turned  his  head 
and  gazed  in  bitterness  through  the  doorway.  The  next 
moment  the  light  of  remorse  and  fear  leapt  into  his 
eyes.  He  had  remembered  all  that  the  gods  were 
Supposed  to  have  done  for  him,  and  for  Sestrina. 


212  SESTRINA 

"  But  for  their  mercy  I  might  be  lying  under  the 
palms,  hidden  from  the  winds  of  heaven  beside  Rohana, 
Steno,  and  their  comrades  in  death,"  he  thought. 

Sestrina  noticed  the  swift  change  in  the  man's  manner. 
Then  she  too  placed  her  hands  to  her  ears  as  though  she 
would  attempt  to  shut  out  the  moans  of  the  shell-gods. 

"  Be  faithful  to  the  gods,  0  wahine." 

"  I  will !  "  replied  Sestrina  as  the  old  pagan  supersti- 
tion swept  back  to  her,  bringing  melancholy  to  her 
heart.  For  she  had  heard  the  praise  of  a  strong  man's 
voice.  She  sat  up  and  stared  in  an  appealing  way  at 
Hawahee  as  she  realised  what  her  life  had  missed 
through  the  cruelty  of  the  fates.  The  presence  of  the 
tall,  handsome  man  thrilled  her  in  a  strange  way,  a 
thrill  over  which  she  seemed  to  have  too  little  self- 
control.  She  half  hated  herself  as  the  winds  swept 
through  the  open  door  of  her  chamber,  and  disturbed 
her  tresses,  making  Hawahee  turn  his  eyes  from  her 
form  as  though  he  dreaded  the  temptation  of  her 
presence. 

"  'Tis  I  who  am  the  temptress,  he  is  truly  noble — 
I  am  weak,"  she  said  to  herself.  "  Ah,  were  it  not  for 
my  memory  of  the  past,  and  my  thousand  prayers  to 
the  great  White  God  and  the  Virgin  when  Hawahee 
thinks  I  am  praying  to  his  gods,  I  would " 

Her  reflections  were  suddenly  broken  short.  Hawahee 
spoke,  his  voice  sounding  almost  stern  : 

"  Sestra,  a  light  which  does  not  belong  to  the  olden 
gods  shines  in  your  eyes ;  why  is  this  ?  " 

"  No  !  No  !  "  said  Sestrina  as  she  gazed  in  fright  at 
the  man  who  could  read  her  thoughts.  The  next 
moment,  Hawahee's  voice  had  softened. 

"  Thou  knowest  not  the  depth  of  my  love,  wahine. 
Maybe,  some  day  you  will  be  rescued,  taken  away  from 
this  isle,  and  will  go  forth  into  the  great  world  again. 
'Tis  then  you  will  remember  these  things,  and  know 
how  great  was  my  love  for  thee."  So  spake  the  great- 
souled  Hawahee. 


SEStRINA  213 

The  sweet  sorrow  of  that  midnight  meeting  seemed 
to  have  brought  comfort  to  Sestrina's  heart  when 
Hawahee  vanished  as  though  the  winds  had  blown  a 
misty  form  from  her  presence.  "Now  I  will  sleep 
well,  wahine,"  he  had  murmured  as  he  turned  to  leave 
her.  In  a  few  moments  he  had  stolen  along  as  though 
in  some  fear  under  the  palms,  and  had  entered  his  hut. 
For  a  long  time  he  knelt  in  deep  prayer,  appealing  to 
his  gods  for  comfort  and  strength.  Then  he  lay  down 
on  his  couch,  and  seemed  to  pass  away  into  a  deep 
slumber.  And  as  he  slept,  his  life  entered  the  great 
dream-world  of  the  unseen  reality.  A  wild  wind  swept 
through  his  slumber.  Outside  his  hut  the  giant  bread- 
fruits waved  their  tasselled  arms  and  sighed  some  melody 
of  the  ages. 

On  top  of  the  first  shore  hill  stood  Sestrina's  hut, 
deserted  !  She  too  had  found  a  second  existence,  and 
had  risen  from  her  sleep  and  wandered  down  to  the 
shore.  The  ocean  stretched  away  like  a  tremendous 
mirror  of  pale  romance  as  the  tossing  waves  rose  from 
the  deep  like  white-necked  children  of  sorrow's  womb, 
and  knocked  in  vain  at  the  cave  doors,  or  ran 
along  the  dream-like  beach.  .  And  still  Sestrina  walked 
up  and  down  the  moonlit  shore,  wringing  her  hands  in 
some  unfathomable  despair.  Her  face  was  pale,  and 
the  gaze  in  her  eyes  as  far-away  looking  as  the  light  of 
the  imaged  stars  that  haunted  the  blue  lagoons  by  her 
side.  As  she  walked  to  and  fro,  her  outblown  hair 
softly  lifting  and  falling  about  her  form  as  though  in 
rhythmical  sympathy  with  her  own  deep  dreams,  she 
stared  in  fright  out  on  the  vast  moon-ridden  seas. 
Inclining  her  head,  she  placed  her  hand  to  her  ear  and 
listened.  Only  the  far-away  sigh  of  the  winds  reached 
her,  the  voices  of  the  shell-gods  were  silent  at  last ! 
Again  she  listened — a  startled  look  leaped  into  her 
eyes,  for  she  could  hear  the  distant  voice  of  Pele  rum- 
bling across  the  pine  and  palm  tracks.  It  was  a  noiseless 
sound,  just  as  one  hears  when  placing  the  ear  against 


214  SESTRINA 

the  pearly  entrance  of  a  large  sea-shell.  As  though  she 
was  haunted  by  the  presence  of  some  unfathomable 
terror,  she  wrung  her  hands,  and  began  to  creep  tip- 
toe up  the  slopes. 

"  Hawahee  !  Hawahee  !  save  me !  I  am  a  woman,  I 
am  weak,  and  you  are  strong,"  she  cried.  Her  voice, 
though  apparently  soundless,  sent  an  echo  across  the 
slopes  into  the  ears  of  the  sleeping  man  who  listened ! 
Still  she  crept  on,  her  hair  blowing  wildly  about  her, 
her  rami's  tasselled  fringe  swinging  to  the  trembling  of 
her  own  form.  The  next  moment  she  stood  outside 
Hawahee's  open  door.  Her  eyes  were  burning  with  a 
strange,  beautiful  sapphire  light.  All  the  visionary 
beauty  of  woman  shone  on  her  brow  and  in  the  fear  of 
her  parted  lips  as  she  called  his  name. 

Slowly,  as  though  in  some  terror  of  the  fascination 
and  dread  over  which  her  soul  had  no  control,  her  pale 
hands  clung,  pulled  at  the  canvas  folds  of  the  doorway's 
old  curtain.  Again  and  again  she  pushed  and  pulled  till 
slowly  that  fragile  curtain,  which  divided  the  wandering 
Sestrina  from  the  sleeper,  was  swept  aside,  revealing 
Hawahee's  handsome  form  and  sleeping  face.  He  tried 
to  rise.  He  knew  that  he  dreamed,  and  yet  he  knew 
that  his  dream  was  the  unseen  reality  of  the  truth  ! 

Sestrina  saw  the  smile  on  his  lips  as  he  welcomed  her 
presence,  for  though  his  eyes  were  closed  he  noticed  these 
things.  She  even  saw  the  warm  blood  of  some  passion 
mount  to  his  brow — the  eyelids  quivered  as  though 
blown  by  some  inward  storm  of  the  soul  which  they  hid. 
"  Hawahee,  my  beloved  Hawahee  !  "  she  whispered. 

Ah,  how  sweet  the  voice  sounded  to  the  sleeper's 
ears  !  That  pale,  wraith-like  woman  who  dreamed  and 
voiced  all  the  feminine  passion  and  sorrow  of  those 
infinite  seas,  saw  the  convulsive  clutching  of  the  strong 
ringers  as  the  sleeper  endeavoured  to  rise  from  his 
couch  and  embrace  the  vision  of  loveliness  that  leaned 
over  him.  He  felt  the  touch  of  warm  lips  kissing  his 
own.  The  radiant  light  of  some  great  passion,  mingled 


SESTRINA  215 

with  religious  fear,  shone  in  the  eyes  of  the  figure  that 
knelt  by  his  couch.  It  was  only  a  momentary  glance 
which  he  saw.  The  next  second  his  sad,  beautiful 
visitor  gazed  in  startled  terror.  It  seemed  that  a  great 
wind  had  swept  over  an  isle  of  dreams.  It  came  up 
the  shores  like  some  rude  breath  of  reality  sweeping 
across  the  pale  seas  of  romance,  blowing  the  moon  into 
shreds  of  mists  and  tangled  light,  scattering  the  pale- 
eyed  stars  in  fright  from  the  lagoons. 

Hawahee  was  awake.  He  distinctly  saw  a  form 
standing  in  the  moonlight  by  his  hut  doorway,  wringing 
its  hands  as  though  in  terror.  A  shriek  escaped  the 
figure's  lips.  He  stared  again — like  some  moonlit 
cobweb  stuff,  Sestrina's  shape  seemed  to  have  been 
blown  from  his  sight. 

"  She  only  comes  in  dreams  !  "  he  sighed,  and  then 
the  lone  castaway  fell  into  a  deeper  slumber. 


CHAPTER    IV 

"  'TT^HE  shell-gods  moan  in  the  valley,  and  your 
-L   shadow  dances !  "  said  Hawahee  to  Sestrina  a 
few  days  after  his  midnight  visit  to  her. 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Hawahee  ?  "  said  Sestrina  as 
she  gazed  long  and  earnestly  at  her  solitary  companion. 
A  strange  look,  as  though  of  fright,  was  in  his  eyes.  His 
handsome  face  was  pallid.  Sestrina  took  his  hand.  He 
made  no  sign  that  she  risked  contagion  by  doing  so,  but 
stood  quite  still.  Then  he  placed  one  arm  gently  over 
her  shoulder  and  said,  "  Sestra,  come  and  see,  follow  me." 

Sunrise  was  peeping  over  the  ocean's  horizon,  bathing 
the  illimitable  miles  with  liquid  gold  ;  like  divine  thrills 
of  soundless  sound  from  the  bugles  of  eternity  calling 
reveille  over  the  new  day's  birth,  transcendent  hues, 
rich  harmonies  of  colour,  swept,  thrilled  with  unheard 
music,  the  infinite  horizons  of  the  sailless  seas.  "  How 


216  SESTRINA 

beautiful  breathe  the  gods  when  Pele's  eyes  stare  from 
the  east,"  whispered  Sestrina  as  she  stared  from  the 
hill-top,  and  like  some  goddess  with  an  imaginary 
goblet  in  her  outstretched  hand,  dipped  it  into  the 
golden  foams  of  the  sunrise,  and  drank  it  with  her  lips 
and  eyes ! 

"  "Tis  the  great  Atua's  hand  painting  the  skyline  of 
the  new  day  with  the  colours  of  the  old  sunsets,"  said 
Hawahee  as  he  too  turned  and  gazed  on  the  ocean's 
eastern  skyline.  Then  they  both  turned  away,  and 
walking  beneath  the  breadfruits,  passed  down  the  little 
slope  that  led  into  the  deep  leafy  glooms  of  the  valley. 

As  they  approached  the  temple  they  heard  the  shell- 
organ  moaning  soft  and  low,  Lydian  strains  and  mourn- 
ful monotones,  some  as  faint  as  the  murmurs  of  a  sea- 
shell. 

As  they  stood  within  a  few  feet  of  the  pagan  temple, 
Hawahee  said  :  "  Look,  Sestra,  art  thou  not  beautiful 
as  thy  shadow  dances  ?  "  As  Hawahee  spoke  he 
pointed  towards  the  shades  of  the  mighty  buttressed 
banyan  that  stood  just  to  the  left  side  of  the  temple. 

"  I  can  see  nothing,"  said  Sestrina  as  she  gazed  in 
astonishment  in  the  direction  where  Hawahee  declared 
he  saw  the  figure  of  a  beautiful  woman  dancing — her 
own  shadow — so  he  said. 

Sestrina  stared  again.  She  could  only  see  a  moulting, 
dilapidated,  large  grey  and  red-winged  parrot  calmly 
preening  its  feathers  as  every  now  and  again  it  gazed 
curiously  at  them  from  its  high  perch.  Hawahee  gave 
a  startled  look.  He  seemed  to  have  suddenly  come  to 
his  senses  ;  for  he  looked  round  quickly  and  said, 
*'  'Tis  only  fancy,  come  away !  come  away !  "  He 
almost  pulled  Sestrina  as  he  beckoned  her  to  hasten 
from  that  spot.  Slowly  they  both  walked  back,  neither 
of  them  speaking  one  word  to  the  other. 

This  incident  greatly  worried  Sestrina.  All  day 
long  she  went  about  her  domestic  duties  in  an  absent- 
minded  way,  reflecting  deeply.  "  Perhaps  his  mind  is 


SESTRINA  217 

ill.  I  remember  reading  in  books,  long  years  ago,  that 
men  and  women  become  strange  and  have  peculiar 
fancies — mad,  I  think  they  call  the  complaint.  I  will 
go  and  watch  him.  He  may  harm  himself  through  his 
desire  that  afflicts  him.  Sooner  than  harm  should 
come  to  him,  I  would " 

She  would  not  allow  her  thoughts  to  go  further,  but 
seeing  that  the  sun  was  low,  a  great  fear  suddenly 
possessed  her — she  ran  down  the  slopes  to  go  in  search 
of  Hawahee.  Where  had  he  been  all  day  ?  she  thought 
as  she  stood  011  the  shore.  Seeing  no  sight  of  him  on 
the  isle,  a  terrifying  fright  seized  her  heart.  For  the 
first  time  during  the  long  years,  a  faint  realisation  of 
how  she  would  feel  were  she  left  perfectly  alone  on  the 
isle  came  to  her.  In  her  new  terror  she  put  forth  her 
hands  and  screamed  as  though  in  appeal  to  the  dumb, 
bright  sky  :  "  Hawahee  !  Hawahee  !  Where  are  you  ? 
Come  to  me,  Sestra  calls  you !  " 

Inclining  her  head  she  listened  eagerly,  but  only  the 
faint  echo  of  her  voice  answered  from  the  palm-clad 
hills.  As  she  stared  about  her,  she  suddenly  observed 
a  dark  object  moving  in  the  jungle  on  the  elevation 
where  the  lepers  were  buried.  The  joy  of  life  returned 
to  her.  Her  feet,  winged  with  hope  and  fear,  sped 
towards  that  small  necropolis.  She  suddenly  stopped 
short..  Her  joy  had  turned  to  fear  and  wonder.  What 
was  Hawahee  doing  ?  Why  dig  on  that  spot,  just  as 
he  had  dug  when  the  lepers  died,  one  by  one  ?  She 
stared  again.  Sure  enough,  he  was  busily  digging  a 
hole  exactly  next  to  the  last  grave  which  he  had  dug 
when  Rohana  died.  The  next  moment  she  had  rushed 
out  from  the  shadows. 

"  Why  are  you  digging  ?  Who  has  died,  since  'tis 
only  we,  you  and  I,  who  dwell  on  this  world  ?  "  she 
cried,  her  voice  full  of  anguish. 

"  I  make  my  own  grave,  Sestra,  surely  I  must  die 
some  day,"  murmured  Hawahee  as  he  suddenly  stayed 
his  hand,  and  rubbed  his  eyes  as  though  he  had  just 


218  SESTRINA 

awakened  from  a  strange  dream.  Then  he  hung  his 
head  as  though  in  shame  that  he  should  cause  the  girl 
such  grief. 

"  Come  back  to  the  palavana  (homestead),"  said  Ses- 
trina.  And  Hawahee  followed  her  like  an  obedient  child. 

Directly  Hawahee  entered  his  hut,  he  rubbed  his 
eyes  and  remembered  what  a  strange  thing  he  had  done. 
Tears  were  in  his  eyes  as  he  thought  of  Sestrina's  grief. 
"  I  have  brought  pain  to  her  heart,  Sestra,  the  flower, 
the  light  of  my  soul,  the  goddess  of  my  soul's  misery ! 
Surely  the  gods  of  the  valley  have  deserted  me  that 
they  should  make  me  feel  that  I  was  as  one  dead,  for 
did  I  not  go  and  dig  my  grave  by  the  side  of  Rohana's 
sleep,  and  my  other  comrades  who  dwell  in  Langi  ? 
'Tis  the  madness  of  desire,  the  long  darkness  and  thirst 
which  has  made  me  forget  I  still  breathe  the  light." 

As  the  sad  Hawaiian  reflected,  he  drew  up  the  sleeve 
of  his  jerkin  so  that  he  might  examine  the  leper  patch 
on  his  arm.  "  Aue  !  "  he  exclaimed  as  he  gazed  on  his 
arm,  astounded  !  "  'Tis  dry  !  and  hardly  to  be  seen  ! 

0  Atua  !   0  Pele  !  can  it  be  that  thou  hast  spared  me  ? 
Kauhilo,  blessed  be  thy  name,  and  the  pure  fires  of  thy 
mountains.*    In  the   fires   of  loveliness,   0   Kauhilo, 
thou  hast  surely  purified  my  body  !     My  body  is  sweet 
as  are  the  flowers  of  the  forest,  and  warm  as  the  sun- 
light afloat  on  the  seas.    My  desires !     My  desires  ! 
they  shall  be  a  blessing  'and  not  a  curse  on  the  woman 

1  love." 

In  the  deep  gratitude  which  he  felt  towards  his  gods, 
his  eyes  filled  with  tears.  Once  again  he  pressed  the 
muscles  of  his  arms,  and,  sure  enough,  the  leper  patch 
was  dry — cured !  He  rose  to  his  feet.  He  pulled  the 
delicately  woven  tappa  shirt  half  over  his  shoulders,  and 

*  Just  as  the  ancient  Greeks  gave  Cyclops  and  his  vassals, 
Hephaestus,  etc.,  abodes  in  the  volcanic  mountains,  abodes 
which  were  supposed  to  be  the  workshops  of  the  Olympian 
Gods,  the  Hawaiians  believed  that  Pele,  Kauhilo,  Atua  and 
their  vassals,  had  their  abodes  in  the  volcanoes  of  Hawaii. 


SESTRINA  219 

then  gazed  on  his  full  chest.  The  flesh  was  soft,  full- 
looking,  like  a  woman's,  the  throat's  perfect  curves  and 
lines  full  of  manly  grace,  and  of  the  splendid  flush  of 
health.  The  physical  characteristics  of  his  race  were 
shtfwn  to  splendid  advantage  by  his  god-like  figure,  the 
symmetry,  the  muscular  beauty  of  his  body's  strength. 
As  he  stood  there,  framed  in  his  hut's  tall  doorway,  hia 
fine,  clear  eyes  gazing  on  his  pagan  stars  in  gratitude, 
he  might  easily  have  been  mistaken  for  some  god-like 
figure  expressing  manly  beauty,  wondrously  done  in 
smooth- veined  gold-brown  marble.  In  his  ecstasy  over 
his  discovery,  Hawahee  lifted  his  arms  and  prayed 
aloud.  He  thought  of  all  that  his  discovery  meant  to 
him.  Already  the  shadow  of  night  lay  over  the  isle. 
In  a  frenzy  of  delight  he  rushed  from  his  homestead. 
Again  he  waved  his  arms  to  the  sky. 

As  he  lifted  his  hands  and  called  to  Atua,  and  Pele, 
and  Kauhilo  he  looked  what  he  was — a  pagan  praying 
to  the  stars. 

Then  he  lay  prone  and  beat  his  hands  on  the  ground. 
Again  he  rose  to  his  feet,  and,  rushing  down  the  valley, 
knelt  before  the  wonderful  stone  figures  that  were  the 
great  hope  and  pagan  joy  of  his  spiritual-dreaming  life. 
He  lifted  his  arms  in  fervent  prayer  to  Atua,  and  gazed 
in  an  awestruck  way  up  at  Kauhilo's  eternal  sidelong 
glance,  and  then  again  into  great  Pele's  face  and  the 
eyes  that  gave  their  immutable  stare  into  the  leafy 
shadows.  Kising  from  his  knees,  he  again  paid  obeisance 
to  the  gods  of  his  own  creating,  and  then  rushed  out 
into  the  shadows  close  by  and  prayed  again  ! 

The  great  grey  dawn  came  stealing  over  the  Pacific  : 
Hawahee  was  still  awake.  He  had  only  slept  an  hour 
or  so.  The  wonder  of  his  discovery  had  driven  sleep 
from  his  mind.  Again  he  leapt  from  his  couch.  Again 
he  stood  outside  by  his  hut,  in  the  soft  light  of  the 
breaking  day,  and  let  the  sunrise  gleams  fall  like  liquid 
flame  on  his  muscular  form. 

"  Atua,  0  Pele,  0  Kauhilo  !  I  thank  thee  !  "  he  cried 


220  SESTRINA 

aloud  as  he  stared  in  delight  on  the  perfect  smoothness 
of  his  muscular  flanks,  his  bosom  and  the  healthful  glow 
of  his  body  !  Hastily  pulling  on  his  tappa-robe,  he  ran 
down  the  slope,  away  once  more  to  pray  to  his  gods  ! 

Such  was  Hawahee's  delight  when  he  left  Sestrina 
and  found  he  was  full  of  health. 

In  the  meantime,  Sestrina  wept.  Directly  she  saw 
Hawahee  disappear  in  his  hut  she  hastened  away  over 
the  slopes  and  filled  in  the  grave  which  he  had  dug  for 
himself !  Then  she  had  returned  in  sorrow  to  her 
lonely  habitation.  That  same  night,  as  Hawahee  prayed 
in  the  frenzy  of  delight  over  his  discovery,  Sestrina 
knelt  alone  in  her  chamber,  praying  to  the  great  White 
God  of  her  childhood.  Then,  remembering,  she  bowed 
her  head  and  prayed  to  the  gods  of  the  temple. 

"  0  Hawahee,  thou  art  now  all  the  world,  all  of  life 
and  light  to  me,  therefore  I  cannot  desert  the  gods  thou 
prayest  to,"  she  murmured,  as  she  thought  of  the  grave 
he  had  dug. 

She  was  still  awake  when  dawn  sent  a  glimmer  of 
silvery  light  over  her  couch  and  along  the  wooden 
walls,  touching  the  faded  faces  of  the  past.  She  lay 
still,  her  eyes  staring  into  the  great  sorrow  of  her  dreams 
as  the  first  gleam  of  sunrise  touched  her  couch,  and  her 
ears  heard  the  chatterings  and  melodious  whistlings  of 
the  cockatoos  and  parrots.  The  music  of  the  birds 
called  her  back  to  herself.  She  at  once  rose  and  swiftly 
attired  herself  in  the  picturesque  costume  which  Hawa- 
hee, with  such  artistic  toil  and  love,  had  weaved. 
Stealing  from  her  chamber,  she  ran  outside  her  doorway 
and  stood  like  a  graceful  nymph  in  the  cool  morning 
air.  Her  face  was  strangely  flushed,  her  eyes  feverish- 
looking,  as  she  gazed  into  the  shadowy  depths  of  the 
orange  trees  and  smelt  the  damp  of  the  glooms  that  were 
illuminated  with  flowers.  Glancing  around,  she  spied 
the  calabash  wherein  Hawahee  kept  the  fermented 
orange  and  lime  juice  which  he  so  carefully  made  for 
himself.  For  often  he,  too,  could  not  sleep. 


SESTRINA  22] 

"It  brings  sweetest  sleep  to  my  brain,  0  Sestra," 
he  had  said. 

And  so  the  pagan  girl  dipped  the  coconut-shell 
goblet  into  the  calabash,  and  filling  it  to  the  brim,  drank 
twice  !  Thoughts  of  Hawahee  and  their  mutual  sorrow 
commenced  to  haunt  her  mind.  "  0  Atua,  0  great 

Pele,  why  am  I  denied  this  man's  caress — and  yet " 

and  as  she  spoke  she  hesitated  and  dropped  her  eyes  as 
some  old  memory  seemed  to  steal  on  the  soft  dawn's 
breeze,  coming  to  her  as  though  from  far  beyond  the 
seas.  She  placed  her  fingers  into  her  ears  as  though 
to  stay  the  hidden  voices — for  she  had  heard  strange 
whisperings  that  night  as  Hawahee  gazed  in  joy  on  the 
full  grace  of  his  graceful  form  and  dreamed  of  the 
solitary  woman  who  slept  near  him. 

"  "Why  not  gaze  into  his  eyes  as  I  have  longed  to 
gaze  in  other  eyes  ?  Why  not  feel  the  lovely,  strong 
clasp  of  the  arms  of  love  ?  Have  I  not  secretly  longed 
for  such  love — and  have  I  not  heard  the  hidden  voices 
of  his  dreams  steal  to  me  across  the  moonlit  yam-patch  ? 
Why  have  the  gods  given  me  this  strange  desire  ?  Am 
I  different  to  the  women  who  walk  the  great  living 
world  that  I  am  separated  from  by  those  far-away 
skylines  of  the  ocean  and  by  cruel  fate.  0  Atua, 
0  Pele,  do  I  not  remember  the  old  things  of  my  child- 
hood, of  the  longings  and  sweet,  kind  ways  of  the 
world  of  the  past  ?  Was  I  not  a  child  once,  and  did 
not  my  head  lay  on  the  bosom  of  a  mother  who 
was  beautiful  in  the  virgin  light  of  pure  mother- 
hood ?  " 

And,  as  Sestrina  reflected,  she  worked  herself  into  a 
kind  of  pagan  frenzy  over  the  rebellious  thoughts  that 
began  to  haunt  her. 

"  I  am  beautiful,  0  Pele,"  she  cried.  She  ran  down 
the  shore.  Throwing  her  hair  wildly  about  her  shoul- 
ders she  stared  out  to  sea  and  began  to  sway  and  chant 
in  a  strange  manner.  She  gazed  enraptured  at  her 
image  in  the  lagoqn.  "  How  rounded  my  limbs  are, 


222  SESTRINA 

how  full  and  soft.  0  Hawahee,  how  happy  am  I  in  the 
thought  of  your  praise." 

She  gazed  on  her  image  again  and  swerved,  vanity 
ashine  in  her  eyes,  to  see  her  mass  of  glittering  hair 
rippling  down  the  shadowy  shoulders,  falling  below  her 
waist  as  she  unclothed,  ready  to  leap  into  the  cool 
lagoon's  water.  Her  eyes  were  bright  with  passionate 
thoughts.  She  turned  about  and  stared  on  the  great 
shining  seas.  She  drank  in  the  tropical  loveliness  of 
the  isle  as  she  had  never  done  before.  The  crimson 
glory  of  the  tropic  flowers  gave  her  a  strange  thrill  of 
delight.  All  the  spiritual  beauty  of  the  forest  had 
vanished !  She  only  saw  the  warm  colours,  the  hot 
sunlight  and  smelt  the  sensuous  exotic  odours  of  the 
bee-sucked  crimson  petals  of  the  hibiscus  and  flamboy- 
ant blossoms.  The  pagan  spirit  that  had  suddenly 
awakened  in  her  soul  made  her  clap  her  hands  in 
ecstasy  as  she  gazed  up  at  the  bright-plumaged  birds 
that  sped  across  the  sky.  The  huge-trunked  bread- 
fruit trees  that  stood  by  the  shore  were  still  her  wise 
old  friends  as  they  leaned  their  richly  tasselled  leafy 
arms  over  her,  nearly  to  the  lagoon's  sandy  bank,  and 
sighed.  The  next  moment  she  had  leapt  from  the 
waters  and  stood  in  their  shades. 

"  0  wise  old  trees  of  the  forest,  you  are  happy,  and 
so  why  should  I  be  sad  ?  "  she  murmured  as  she  stared 
at  the  big  leafy  heights  and  thought  how  Hawahee 
had  told  her  that  they  were  the  reincarnations  of 
mighty  gods  who  had  fallen  in  the  past  through  having 
mortal  desires ! 

She  gave  a  silvery  peal  of  laughter.  She  took  forth 
her  little  bamboo  flute  from  the  folds  of  her  rami  (skirt). 
There  beneath  the  sighing  breadfruits,  she  placed  the 
reed  to  her  lips  and  piped  like  Pan  in  his  leafy  solitudes. 
Wherefrom  came  the  sweet  plaintive  notes  of  the 
magical  melody  which  she  piped  ?  Hawahee  had 
never  taught  her  that  melody !  She  opened  her  eyes 
wide  in  wonder.  She  rose  and  ran  back  to  the  lagoon's 


SESTRINA  223 

side,  and,  gazing  on  her  knees  in  the  water,  spied  the 
yet  unhealed  cut  which  she  had  received  when  she  fell 
in  the  hollow.  Throwing  her  head  backward,  she 
placed  her  arms  up  over  her  shoulders  so  that  her  head 
could  rest  on  her  hands  as  she  gazed  at  the  sky.  Then 
with  eyes  half  closed,  she  murmured  dreamily  :  "  Hawa- 
hee  !  Hawahee  !  I  am  but  a  woman  !  "  Suddenly  her 
hair  was  outblown,  for  a  great  wind  swept  over  the 
seas.  The  next  moment  she  had  dropped  her  arms 
and  was  staring  with  startled  eyes,  for  the  winds  had 
swept  down  the  valley.  She  could  hear  the  gods  of 
the  temple  in  the  valley  moaning  deeply.  "  What  have 
I  been  dreaming  ?  Why  have  such  thoughts  come  to 
me  ?  "  she  cried. 

Hastily,  and  with  trembling  hands,  she  replaced  her 
disordered  hair,  rearranged  her  rami,  and  placing  her 
hands  over  her  eyes,  hid  them  in  shame.  She  ran  up 
the  shore,  ran  as  though  in  fright  from  herself  !  She 
hastened  to  attend  her  domestic  duties.  In  a  few 
moments  the  yams  and  fish  were  cooked  and  placed  in 
the  platters. 

"  He  is  late  this  morning,"  she  muttered,  as  Hawahee 
made  no  appearance.  Then  she  heard  footsteps ;  it  was 
as  though  Hawahee  had  heard  her  thoughts,  for  there 
he  stood  by  the  kitchen  porch.  Sestrina  gazed  on  her 
lonely  comrade  in  wonder.  He  looked  very  happy. 
The  lines  of  sorrow  had  left  his  brow,  and  his  eyes  were 
full  of  joyous  light ! 

"  Sestra,  you  are  late  this  morning ;  how  is  it  ?  Did 
you  not  sleep  well,  wahine  ?  " 

Sestrina  blushed  deeply,  and  trembled  inwardly  in 
the  thought  that  perhaps  the  strange  man  before  her 
had  read  her  thoughts,  had  heard  the  yearnings  of  her 
soul.  "  Why  did  he  smile  so  wistfully  and  with  such 
tenderness  ?  Why  was  his  face  suffused  with  a  great 
warmth,  as  though  colour  of  the  jungle-peonies  had 
left  their  rosy  flush  on  his  cheeks  ?  Why  did  his  eyes 
gleam  with  a  wondrous  light  as  though  he  had  scanned 


224  SESTRINA 

the  heavens  and  sighted  the  angels  amongst  the  stars  ?  " 
Why  ?  " 

As  soon  as  Hawahee  had  breakfasted,  he  rose  from  the 
table  and  said  :  "  Sestra,  I  will  away  to  weave  my  mats, 
and  shall  not  see  you  to-day."  And  saying  this,  the 
Hawaiian,  with  his  soul  full  of  fervent  joy  over  his  de- 
liverance from  the  leprosy,  went  into  the  valley  to  spend 
the  day  in  prayer.  For  Hawahee  was  truly  a  holy  man. 

That  same  night,  whilst  Hawahee  slept,  Sestrina 
made  up  her  mind  to  go  off  to  the  shell-temple  and  pray 
to  the  gods.  Rising  from  her  couch  she  hastily  attired 
herself  in  the  much  worn  tappa-robe  and  went  to  the 
door.  She  looked  out  into  the  night  and  glanced 
fearfully  about  her.  The  winds  were  blowing  wildly, 
and  she  could  hear  the  seas  thund^-ing  as  they  re- 
bounded on  the  outer  reefs.  The  deep  strain  of  super- 
stition in  her  nature  was  intensified  by  the  ocean's 
monotone  and  the  distant  moaning  harmonies  of  the 
shell-altar.  She  had  heard  those  strange  shell-murmurs 
for  more  than  a  thousand  nights,  till  at  last  they  chimed 
to  her  ears  like  voices  of  the  infinite. 

Taking  advantage  of  the  wild  moaning  of  the  palms 
as  a  gust  of  wind  swept  across  the  isle,  she  swiftly  ran 
by  Hawahee's  silent  hut.  In  a  few  minutes  she  had 
reached  the  solitudes  of  the  valley.  Approaching  the 
temple,  a  great  fright  seized  her  heart.  She  could  hear 
the  gods,  those  wonderful  oracles  that  had  been  fash- 
ioned by  the  toil  of  Hawahee's  superstitious  imagina- 
tion, moaning  loudly.  In  the  darkness  of  the  valley, 
alone  with  the  terror  of  her  own  imagination,  the  big 
shell-mouths  had  spiritual  voices. 

For  a  moment  she  stood  quite  still,  afraid  to  approach 
that  pagan  temple  of  the  valley.  A  falling  dead  leaf 
touched  her  shoulder ;  she  gave  a  startled  jump  and 
almost  screamed  in  fright.  "  Why  should  I  fear  since 
Hawahee  prays  so  fervently  ;  what  is  the  matter  with 
me  ?  "  she  thought.  The  next  moment  she  had  entered 
the  portals  of  the  temple. 


SESTRINA  225 

In  a  moment  she  fell  on  her  knees  before  the  mighty 
oracles.  With  lifted  hands  she  gazed  up  at  Pele's 
changeless  face.  Was  it  some  wild  fancy  of  the  brain, 
or  did  Pele's  large,  pearl-white  eyes  gaze  on  her  kneeling, 
supplicating  figure  in  sorrow  ?  Yes,  as  the  curved, 
wide  rose-flushed  shell-lips  moaned  a  deep  contralto 
note  of  sympathy. 

"  0  goddess  Pele,  0  Atua,  and  great  Kauhilo,  send 
the  deepest  oblivion  to  my  heart,  sweep  the  far-ofi 
past  away  !  I  would  only  wish  to  remember  Hawahee, 
the  one  whose  loving  hands  fashioned  the  solemn 
wonder  of  your  presence."  And  as  Sestrina  knelt  and 
appealed  to  the  gods,  they  suddenly  ceased  their  moan- 
ings — each  voice  stopped ;  then  a  violent  gust  of  wind 
swept  through  the  banyan  heights  and  Atua's  voice 
alone  moaned  a  deep  angry  warning-note  to  the  pagan 
girl's  ears.  Rising  to  her  feet  in  the  terror  of  her 
superstition,  for  she  imagined  the  gods  were  cursing 
her,  she  rushed  from  the  temple.  In  her  fright  she  ran 
up  the  left  slope,  and  ran  into  the  leafy  shadows  almost 
behind  the  temple.  She  turned  to  the  right  and  passed 
under  the  shade  of  the  banyans  through  which  the 
moonlight  glimmered. 

She  suddenly  stopped,  stood  rigid,  with  hands  up- 
raised, electrified,  as  though  to  ward  off  some  terror — 
there  before  her,  standing  in  the  shade  of  the  buttressed 
banyan,  stood  a  figure ;  she  stared  on  herself !  She 
stood  before  a  figure  of  carven  coral  stone,  chiselled  to 
resemble  her  nearly  naked  form,  a  marvellous  work  of 
heathen  art,  the  lips,  the  brow,  the  expression  perfect, 
even  to  the  immovable  eyelids.  The  massed  crown  of 
hair  looked  real !  It  was  as  though  it  had  been  carved 
with  a  needle.  The  raised  skeins  of  slenderest  stone 
were  artistically  left  so  that  the  carven  ringlets  should 
fall  over  the  shoulders.  It  was  a  wonderful  emblem- 
atical figure  of  love's  highest  achievement  in  sculptural 
poetic  art.  The  figure  resembled  the  astonished  girl  so 
much,  that  could  one  have  seen  the  two  figures  standing 


226  SESTRINA 

there  in  the  moon-touched  gloom,  it  would  have  been 
impossible  to  tell  which  knew  the  warm  breath  of  life 
and  which  was  the  sculptured,  soulless  stone  ! 

Hawahee  had  carved  her  image,  made  a  goddess  of  her, 
so  that  he  might  kneel  to  her  beauty,  her  cold  loveliness, 
in  secret !  Every  curve  from  the  brow  down  to  the 
perfect  feet  was  exact.  She  stared  again  and  trembled 
— the  lips  moaned !  The  Hawaiian  fanatic  had — and 
from  what  infinite  selection  and  choice  ? — placed  a  shell 
in  the  mouth.  It  was  a  sad,  sweet-linked,  long-drawn 
note  of  melancholy  that  the  shadowy  mouth  of  the 
pagan  girl's  stone  shape  gave  forth. 

"  Hawahee  !  Hawahee  !  "  she  cried  in  the  momentary 
sorrow  that  came  as  she  realised  why  the  sad  leper 
had  made  that  figure.  In  a  flash  she  realised  that  he 
knelt  before  that  deaf,  eyeless  resemblance  of  her  body 
so  that  he  could  appeal  in  secret  to  the  woman  he  loved, 
could  kneel  in  some  half-divine  passion  without  con- 
taminating her  own  sad  reality  ! 

Only  for  a  moment  did  she  stand  there  staring  in 
astonishment,  face  to  face  with  the  beautiful  immobility 
of  her  stone  self.  The  next  moment  she  had  turned 
aside,  had  fled  in  her  terror. 

Down  the  valley's  side  she  ran.  When  she  arrived 
outside  her  dwelling  she  was  gasping  for  breath.  She 
looked  over  her  shoulder  fearfully,  then  ran  inside  her 
lonely  chamber,  for  she  could  hear  the  loud  moanings 
of  the  gods  and  fancied  they  were  racing  in  hatred  after 
her! 

No  sleep  for  Sestrina  that  night !  Her  brain  teemed 
with  wild  fancies  as  she  lay  on  her  couch  thinking, 
thinking.  The  wonder  of  the  figure  she  had  seen  behind 
the  temple  haunted  her  soul.  For  the  first  time  for 
years  she  felt  the  terror  of  her  own  loneliness,  in  the 
dark,  alone  in  that  tiny  dwelling,  on  an  isle  set  in  the 
boundless  solitudes  of  the  Pacific  Ocean.  As  the  first 
weird  atmosphere,  through  seeing  that  shape,  began  to 
wear  off,  she  rose  from  her  couch,  sat  up. 


SESTRINA  227 

"  He  shall  not  know  that  I  have  discovered  it !  "  she 
murmured,  as  thrilling  waves  of  strange  indignation, 
of  passion,  and  of  sorrow  for  the  Hawaiian  came  to  her. 
She  ^hardly  knew  what  to  think  of  it  all.  Then  the 
curiosity  of  the  feminine  nature  asserted  itself.  "I 
will  watch  him !  I  will  see  the  meaning  of  it  all !  " 
And  in  this  sudden  resolution,  she  lay  her  head  on  the 
pillow  again  and  fell  asleep. 

Dawn  swept  over  the  Pacific  seas,  bringing  the 
splendour  of  the  tropic  day  in  its  train.  Sestrina  was 
up  with  the  birds.  She  saw  the  first  etherealised  im- 
pression of  the  sunrise  come,  as  the  great  artist, 
Eternity,  held  the  brush  of  Time  in  his  unerring  hand 
and  swept  the  ocean  skyline  with  a  daub  of  liquid  gold. 
Sestrina  saw  that  daub  twinkle  like  lightning  as  it  ran 
in  its  splendid  overflow  and  trickled  across  the  tre- 
mendous dark  heaving  canvas — the  Pacific  Ocean. 

Once  more  she  carefully  turned  the  cooking  yams, 

then  she  turned  her  head — Hawahee  stood  before  her. 

"  Sestra,  I  have  been  sleepless  the  last  two  nights," 

he  said,  as  the  castaway  woman  remarked  on  his  early 

appearance. 

Then  Sestrina  turned  her  eyes  from  his  face,  for  she 
did  not  wish  him  to  see  the  curious  wonder  that  she 
knew  must  be  visible  in  her  eyes.  It  was  then  that 
Hawahee  said  :  "  Sestra,  dear  wahine,  I  have  gathered 
no  sea-birds'  eggs  at  all  the  last  two  mornings,  but  have 
wandered  by  the  shore,  watching  the  dawn  and  the 
morning's  gold  steal  over  wide  waters  and  brush  all 
the  lagoons  with  soft  fire." 

As  Hawahee  said  this,  Sestrina  looked  swiftly  into 
his  eyes.  Why  did  his  lips  smile  so  tenderly  and  yet 
in  so  knowing  a  manner  ?  She  suddenly  remembered 
how  she  had  the  morning  before  gazed  on  her  image  in 
the  lagoon,  had  danced  to  her  shadow  and  chanted ! 
She  blushed  hotly  at  the  thought  that  Hawahee  had 
been  on  the  shore  side  instead  of  far  away  seeking  the 
morning  seagulls'  eggs,  and  had  spied  on  her  during 


228  SESTRINA 

her  strange  madness.  Hiding  her  face  in  her  hands, 
she  said  :  "  I  hate  you  !  " 

Hawahee,  who  had  seen  and  heard  so  much,  only 
smiled.  "  Why  this  shame,  Sestra  ?  "  he  said  as  he 
gazed  at  her.  Sestrina  was  still  trembling  in  her 
confusion.  Then  he  continued  :  "  'Tis  true  that  I  saw 
you ;  do  you  deny  me  the  brief  happiness  that  the  Fates 
inspired  you  to  give  unto  my  soul  at  the  breaking  of 
the  day  ?  " 

At  hearing  these  words,  and  the  tender  note  of 
Hawahee's  melancholy  voice,  Sestrina's  shame  vanished. 
She  half  smiled  to  herself  as  she  looked  up  at  the  tall, 
dignified  man  before  her  and  thought  of  her  stone 
shape  behind  the  temple.  And  Hawahee  smiled  too, 
and  Was  pleased  that  she  should  take  it  all  in  such 
good  part,  for  he  little  knew  what  she  knew  ! 


CHAPTER  V 

THE  sad  Hawahee  was  strangely  happy  that  day  in 
the  thought  that  Sestrina  had  smiled  over  his  / 
perfidious  spying  on  her !  Sestrina  could  hear  him  singing 
his  pagan  melodies  as  he  chopped  firewood  on  the  huge  log 
by  the  yam-patch.  Hawahee's  mind  was  full  of  glorious 
schemes  for  the  future.  Since  he  had  discovered  that 
the  leprosy  spot  was  almost  cured,  the  outlook  of  his 
life  had  completely  changed.  He  had  decided  to  tell 
nothing  about  his  wonderful  discovery  to  Sestrina  until 
he  had  quite  made  his  plans  for  the  future.  He  felt 
assured  that  his  castaway  companion  loved  him  from 
the  soul  as  well  as  the  flesh.  There  was  no  denying 
that  the  heathen  melodies  he  sang  were  cheerful  strains, 
lacking  all  the  sombre  beauty  of  those  chants  he  had 
sang  till  Sestrina's  heart  had  ached.  And  so  the  long 
hot  tropic  day  was  full  of  anticipation  and  happiness  for 
Hawahee  as  well  as  for  Sestrina. 


SESTRINA  229 

When  the  sun  had  set  and  the  shadows  were  thicken- 
ing the  stars  over  the  seas,  Sestrina  stole  from  her 
chamber.  She  knew  that  Hawahee  had  gone  down  to 
the  shell-temple  to  pray  to  his  beloved  gods.  As  she 
passed  by  the  bamboos  on  the  ridge  of  the  little  hill 
to  the  right  of  the  valley  she  looked  seaward.  Even 
the  big,  calm,  bright  moon  seemed  to  stare  with  curi- 
osity as  it  peered  gently  over  the  sea's  horizon,  its  lovely 
eye  sending  a  searchlight  stream  of  ethereal  beams  over 
the  dark  palms  of  the  isle.  Away  she  ran !  In  a  few 
minutes  she  was  creeping  along  in  the  shadows  of  the 
palms  by  the  temple  of  shells.  The  winds  were  blowing 
softly,  only  a  faint  murmur  came  from  the  shell-organ. 
Still  she  crept  nearer,  and  then  half  in  fright  she  peered 
round  the  portal's  edge  and  stared  into  the  great  rocky 
sacred  interior.  Hawahee  was  not  there !  Only  the 
great  unlidded  stone  eyes  of  Pele  and  the  gods  gazed 
in  their  solemn  immobility  on  her  fearful  intrusion. 
Where  was  Hawahee  ?  She  could  distinctly  hear  him 
chanting — she  knew  that  he  was  worshipping  some  one. 
She  pushed  the  feathery  pulu  leaves  aside  and  peered, 
her  eyes  staring,  fascinated  by  the  sight  she  saw.  Hawa- 
hee knelt  with  hands  upraised  before  the  carven,  beauti- 
ful form  of  insensate  stone !  Again  she  gazed  on  the 
wonderfully  raised  crown  of  hair  that  rippled  down  to 
the  cold  lovely  grace  of  the  stone  shoulders.  He  was 
singing,  chanting  some  melodious  melody  for  the  deaf 
ears — so  beautifully  shaped,  like  rosy  pearl  sheik  of 
the  ocean — she  heard  him  whisper  words  of  passion  as 
he  gazed  into  the  wide  open,  wonder-lidded,  delicately 
lashed  stone  eyes  !  She  saw  the  warm  glow  of  his  own. 
A  thrill  of  uneasy  joy  tinged  with  uncanny  fright  seized 
her  heart  as  she  watched.  She  remembered  Hawahee's 
long  absences  from  her  side,  when  he  told  her  he  was 
away  in  the  forest  busy  mat-weaving  !  She  gazed  down 
the  veined  marble-like  limbs  and  on  the  artistically 
chiselled  ankles  and  perfect  sandalled  feet — they  were 
shod  with  the  second  pair  of  sandals — the  sandals  which 


230  SESTRINA 

Hawahee  had  given  her  by  mistake  when  he  presented 
her  with  the  rami  and  tappa-weaved  bodice. 

Even  she  gazed  in  ecstatic  admiration  on  that  wonder- 
ful carven  shape  of  herself.  The  veined  limbs,  the  curves, 
the  symmetrical  lines  of  the  rounded  flanks  were  per- 
fect !  In  the  inherent  modesty  of  her  nature,  a  tiny 
tinge  of  resentment  came  to  her,  a  warm  blush  suffusing 
her  face,  as  a  nervous  wonder  leapt  into  her  mind.  How 
had  the  impassioned  sculptor  been  able  to  achieve  such 
perfect  detail  ?  In  a  flash  she  thought  of  her  morning 
bathings  in  the  lagoon  when  Hawahee  was  supposed  to 
be  far  away  on  the  other  side  of  the  isle  seeking  seagulls' 
eggs.  She  thought  of  his  marvellous  power  of  seeing 
her  dreams  and  hearing  the  hidden  voices  of  the  soul — 
perhaps  he  had  the  power  of  seeing  her  visionary  shape  ? 

She  swiftly  forgave.  A  great  love  and  tenderness  for 
the  kneeling  worshipper  swept  through  her  soul.  She 
knew  how  true  he  was  to  his  gods.  "  Truer  than  I  am !  " 
she  murmured  as  she  watched  and  knew  how  easily 
she  herself  would  have  fallen  had  Hawahee  been  a 
godless  man. 

"  Hawahee  !  "  she  cried. 

In  a  moment  the  worshipper  turned  round.  He 
stood  as  though  riveted  to  the  ground  in  his  shame  and 
surprise.  He  looked  like  some  big  child  caught  in  some 
sinful  act  wherefrom  there  was  no  escape. 

"  Sestra !  Aue  !  0  forgiver  me  !  "  he  murmured, 
lapsing  into  pidgin  English  in  his  shame. 

"  Hawahee,  am  I  sweeter  in  the  stone  than  in  the 
flesh  ?  Is  my  loveliness  only  divine  in  the  curves  and 
lines  of  your  own  mind  and  its  creationary  work  ?  "  she 
cried,  a  great  wave  of  jealousy  sweeping  into  her  heart 
as  she  stared  on  her  breathless,  bloodless  rival.  And 
still  the  solemn-looking  fanatic  did  not  fly  to  the  warm, 
living  arms  that  were  outstretched  in  appeal  as  she 
spoke. 

"  Sestra,  'tis  beautiful ;  see  the  shoulders,  the  face, 
the  brow,  the  hair,  and  the  lips  of  my  goddess — Sestra ! 


SESTRINA  231 

'Tis  the  divine  beauty  of  thyself,  thy  soul's  calm  beauty 
in  stone,"  he  murmured,  as  he  pointed  to  the  wonderfully 
chiselled  face  that  seemed  to  stare  from  the  shadows 
in  stony  sorrow  and  fright  at  its  bright-eyed  startled 
living  shape. 

Sestrina  felt  that  she  stood  gazing  upon  herself — 
divine,  divested  of  the  mortality  of  the  flesh.  Yes, 
there  she  stood,  expressing  in  loveliest  grace  and  perfect 
form  all  that  Hawahee  had  created,  made  of  her  by  the 
lovely  creative-light  of  his  imagination  J 

"  Oh,  Hawahee  !  "  she  cried. 

The  tall  worshipper  gazed  first  at  the  unchangeable 
grace,  the  cold  spendour  of  his  mind's  materialised  art, 
then  he  stared  at  the  warm,  living  eyes  of  the  jealous 
woman  that  fronted  it ! 

"  Can  you  not  make  a  stone  figure  of  thyself,  0 
Hawahee  ?  For  'tis  only  in  stone  that  I  should  seem 
to  truly  love  thee !  "  said  Sestrina,  a  wrathful  gleam 
in  her  eyes. 

In  a  moment  Hawahee  had  clasped  her  in  his  arms. 
Again  and  again  their  lips  met.  And  still  the  gods 
moaned  on  in  the  shadows  close  by.  And  still  Sestrina 
wondered  why  she  looked  so  luring  in  stone,  so  beauti- 
fully unattainable,  and  why  she  felt  so  jealous  of  stone 
lips  and  arms  which  could  never  give  their  fruits  to  a 
lover's  appeal. 
•  "  Sestra,  forget  not  the  presence  of  the  gods." 

"  No,  Hawahee !  "  said  the  woman,  as  she  too  felt 
the  subtle  command  and  warning  mystery  of  the  deep 
moaning  voices  of  the  gods — not  six  yards  from  where 
they  stood. 

"  How  loudly  they  moan !  Hawahee,  I  curse  the 
winds  of  the  valley,"  murmured  Sestrina  as  she  stood 
there  with  her  arms  clinging  over  the  strong  shoulders 
of  the  man  who  had  worshipped  her  image.  Her  face 
was  uplifted,  a  startled  look  in  her  eyes,  as  Pele  moaned 
to  the  wind's  deep  breath. 

"  Say  not  such  things,  0  Sestra,  sweet  wahine, 


232  SESTRINA 

of  mine  !  Listen  ;  I  have  a  plan  in  my  heart  that  will 
outwit  the  gods  ;  but  Sestra,  you  too  must  pray  well ; 
and  in  a  very  little  while  we  shall  be  able  to  fall  into 
each  other's  arms  far  away  from  the  power  of  the  gods 
that  I  have  made  out  of  the  reverence  of  my  soul's 
sorrow.  Maybe,  0  Sestra,  I  know  that  the  great  White 
God  of  Langi  is  a  kind  god,  but  still,  Atua,  Kauhilo, 
and  Pele  have  been  kind  to  me — I  am  cured  of  the 
kilia  (leprosy).  "Tis  the  gods  who  have  done  this  thing 
to  me,  so  how  can  I  sin  in  their  sight  ?  " 

"  Cured  !  Hast  thou  no  fear  of  anything  ?  "  Sestrina 
gasped.  She  could  say  no  more,  so  deep  was  her  sur- 
prise and  happiness  in  the  thought  that  her  sad  comrade 
should  be  cured  of  the  kilia. 

"  Outwit  the  gods,  0  Hawahee !  "  she  murmured 
as  she  looked  about  into  the  shadows  with  awestruck 
eyes.  Then  they  kissed  again. 

"  Let  us  be  calm,  for  if  it  is  true,  this  that  you  say, 
we  have  eternities  of  happiness  before  us." 

She  well  knew  that  Hawahee  was  strong  and  brave 
and  that  when  he  said  he  could  outwit  the  gods  he  must 
have  some  wonderful  plan  in  his  mind. 

"  Let  us  away  from  here,"  said  Sestrina. 

Hawahee  through  long  habit  turned  to  pay  obeisance 
to  the  lone,  lovely  figure  that  stood  staring  in  splendid 
blindness  from  the  shadows. 

Sestrina  noticed  the  spontaneous  act.  "  Hawahee," 
she  murmured  softly,  a  note  of  deep  sorrow  in  her 
voice,  "  I  do  not  mind ;  kneel  before  the  beauty  and 
innocence  of  myself,  the  loveliness  that  your  noble 
mind  has  created  out  of  me  ;  kneel  to  the  innocence  of 
my  girlhood,  the  heaven  of  innocence  that  was  mine 
when  I  once  prayed  and  confessed  to  a  dim,  grey-headed 
old  priest  named  Pere  Chaco." 

Hawahee  gazed  into  her  eyes  as  she  ceased  speaking. 

"  Why  are  the  tears  falling,  why  can  I  hear  the 
poetry  and  all  the  loveliness  of  the  stars  in  the  big  sky, 
the  innocence  and  beauty  of  the  flowers  and  the 


SESTRINA  233 

melancholy  of  the  sunsets  at  Pele's  altar,  why  ?  0 
Sestra,  why  does  the  music  of  your  voice  sound  so  ?  " 

Sestra  made  no  reply,  but  to  Hawahee's  astonishment, 
moved  four  steps  forward  and  flung  herself  down  on  her 
knees  before  the  sorrowful,  divine-looking  carven  cold 
stone  image  of  herself — and  wept  bitterly. 

That  same  night  Sestrina  knelt  in  her  chamber  and 
prayed  to  the  heathen  gods  and  to  the  great  White 
God  of  Langi.  Then  she  stood  up  and  stared  through 
the  small  window-hole  and  heard  the  hidden  voices  mur- 
muring in  the  great  speech  of  her  soul.  Her  thoughts 
went  out  over  the  seas.  She  heard  the  roosting  cocka- 
toos, in  the  palms  outside,  give  a  dismal,  startled 
screech,  and  even  Rohana  croaked  as  though  in  fright; 
"  0  Atua  !  0  Pel6  !  "  as  she  sent  her  thoughts  across 
the  oceans,  away  through  the  dim  starry  skylines  that 
surrounded  her  island  world.  Then  she  sobbed  as  she 
lay  in  bed.  She  thought  of  the  past.  And  as  she  lay 
alone  in  her  silent  chamber  she  heard  the  soft,  quivering 
murmurings  of  Hawahee's  dreams  coming  across  the 
orange- scented  hollow  from  his  lonely  hut.  "  0  Hawa- 
hee,  'tis  love  of  the  flesh  and  not  of  the  soul !  "  she 
cried. 


CHAPTER  VI 

TWO  days  after  Sestrina  had  surprised  Hawahee 
before  her  image,  he  came  to  her  and  said : 
"  Wahine,  thou  and  I  have  tarried  too  long  on  this 
cursed  isle,  dwelling  in  the  anguish  of  our  secret  desires." 

"  Yes,  Hawahee,"  murmured  the  lonely  woman  aa 
she  hid  her  face  and  stirred  the  bubbling,  sweet-scented 
poi-poi  (taro  and  yam  stew). 

"  I  have  thought  deeply  and  long,  Sestra  mine,  and 
feel  'twill  be  well  to  build  a  raft  so  that  we  may  float 
away  together  over  the  seas,  you  and  I  alone,  sweet 
goddess  of  my  soul ;  shall  it  be  ?  " 


234  SESTRINA 

Sestrina  heard  the  note  of  resolve  in  the  man's  voice. 
Her  heart  was  thrilled  with  a  great  hope.  She  did  not 
realise  the  dangers  of  being  cast  away  on  those  infinite 
waters  on  a  raft,  at  the  mercy  of  the  elements  and  the 
hot  merciless  light  of  the  tropic  suns  Often  during  the 
first  lonely  years  of  their  castaway  life,  Sestrina  had 
suggested  to  Hawahee  that  they  could  build  a  boat  and 
try  and  float  away  to  the  shores  of  the  great  world 
again.  Hawahee  had  even,  for  the  girl's  sake,  agreed 
to  make  the  attempt,  but  Sestrina  had  dissuaded  him 
when  she  remembered  that  he  would  only  be  captured 
and  sent  to  Molaki  if  they  did  arrive  safely  on  the  shores 
of  the  civilised  world  again. 

"  Hawahee,  I  long  to  leave  this  isle.  None  need  ever 
know  that  you  once  had  the  dreadful  kilia,"  she  mur- 
mured, as  she  turned  her  head  and  gazed  tenderly  into 
the  face  of  the  sad-looking  man  who  stood  awaiting 
her  reply. 

The  first  confusion  that  had  come  to  her  through 
Hawahee's  presence  had  disappeared.  A  great  future 
with  a  maze  of  possibilities  had  flashed  into  her  hopeful 
brain.  For  a  moment  she  stood  stirring  the  poi-poi, 
speechless  with  joy. 

"  And  the  shell-gods — would  you  leave  them — 
'twould  be "  She  stopped. 

A  shadow  had  passed  across  Hawahee's  face.  In  a 
moment  she  felt  that  she  had  foolishly  reverted  to  a 
subject  that  might  be  the  cause  of  dashing  her  hopes  to 
atoms.  She  too,  revered  the  shell-gods,  but  what  were 
their  solemn  moanings  when  compared  to  the  beautiful 
world  of  the  past,  and  the  memories  of  her  girlhood  ? 

With  a  sweep  of  her  hand,  so  to  speak,  she  had 
swept  the  mighty  heathen  gods  to  perdition.  "  Curse 
the  shells,  curse  the  gods,  I  hate  the  moaning  shells," 
was  her  mental  ejaculation. 

But  Sestrina's  fears  were  groundless,  Hawahee  had  no 
intention  of  swerving  from  his  resolve  to  build  a  raft 
and  leave  the  isle. 


SESTRINA  235 

"  Beloved  Sestra,  do  not  fear :  the  shells  and  the 
gods  will  still  moan  on  in  the  temple  of  the  valley  when 
we  are  far  away  and  helpless  on  the  great  waters." 

How  strange  is  human  nature  with  all  its  habits  and 
old  faiths  and  long-nursed  beliefs  ! 

The  next  moment  a  flood  of  sympathy  came  to 
Sestrina's  heart — her  jealousy  of  the  gods  had  vanished 
— she  felt  a  great  wave  of  sorrow  come  to  her  soul  in 
the  thought  of  the  poor  shells  moaning  in  the  valley 
and  she  and  he  so  far  away  ! 

"  Hawahee,  we  shall  be  happy  when  we  are  out  on 
the  great  water  ?  " 

"  Sestra,  we  will ;  and  see,  already  the  hands  of  the 
gods  are  painting  the  colours  of  the  sunset  with  gold 
and  the  warm  blood  of  my  desires ;  'tis  a  sure  sign 
that  they  will  not  be  angry." 

Sestrina  sprang  into  his  arms,  and  then  turned  her 
head  and  saw  a  great  flood  of  crimson  and  gold  staining 
the  vast  storied  window  of  the  remote  western  skyline. 

"  Thanks  to  great  Langi  for  this  hour !  "  murmured 
Hawahee. 

Then  Sestrina  went  on  with  her  cooking  and  the 
Hawaiian  stole  away  into  the  shadows  to  pray  before 
his  shell  oracles.  After  chanting  his  prayers  into  those 
deaf  ears,  he  passed  out  of  the  temple  and  stole  into 
the  shadows  and  stood  before  Sestrina's  stone  image. 

Why  did  he  gaze  so  solemnly,  so  silently  on  that 
form  and  face  that  represented  all  that  was  divine,  all 
that  was  beautiful  with  innocence  and  immortal  love- 
liness to  his  pagan  imagination  ?  What  had  happened 
that  even  a  heathen's  eyes  should  fill  with  tears  as  he 
bent  and  knelt  before  the  cold  stone  and  gazed  up  into 
the  wide-lidded  eyelids  ?  Why  did  he,  for  the  first 
time,  place  his  warm  arms  around  the  cold  grace  of  that 
bloodless  thing  ?  Who  can  tell,  who  can  whisper  one 
word,  one  murmur  that  can  explain  the  deep  mysteries 
of  the  human  soul's  aspirations  for  the  loveliness  which 
mortals  call  innocence  and  beauty  and  truth  ?  Who  ? 


236  SESTRINA 

Why  is  the  sweetest  nectar,  in  the  divinest  vintage  that 
was  ever  squeezed  from  creation's  mighty  wine-press 
of  toiling  suns  and  stars,  bitter  to  the  soul's  taste, 
bringing  nought  to  sad  mortals  but  the  despair  of 
shattered  dreams  and  disillusionment  ? 

The  soulful  Hawaiian  poet  rose  to  his  feet  and  placed 
his  lips  in  sorrow  against  the  grace  of  the  cold  bosom  ; 
he  placed  his  warm  fingers  amongst  the  chill  fingers  of 
the  shape's  outstretched  hand  and  cried  aloud — like  a 
weeping  child !  He  had  placed  a  withered  flower  that 
had  faded  in  the  statue's  reality — in  Sestrina's  hair — in 
the  small,  cold  hand's  palm. 

"  0  Atua,  0  Pele,  goddess  of  beauty  and  innocence, 
why  is  my  heart  afflicted  ?  Why  are  the  visionary 
shadows  of  my  unhappy  soul  when  shaped  into  cold 
stone,  sweeter  than  the  realities  I  touch  with  living 
desire,  sweeter  than  the  wines  of  love,  sweeter  than  the 
touch  of  passionate  lips  ?  " 

And  there,  with  his  head  inclined,  the  tall,  handsome, 
noble- looking  fanatic,  listened,  awaiting  a  reply !  But 
only  the  solemn  moan  of  the  gods  came  to  his  ears  as  he 
gazed  once  more  at  the  image  of  his  soul's  desire,  and 
then  stole  away  into  the  shadows. 


Seetrina  laughed  like  a  happy  child  to  herself  as  she 
lay  in  bed  that  night  and  thought  of  all  that  Hawahee 
had  said.  She  could  hear  the  white -ridged  combers 
charging  the  shore  reefs  below,  and  they  seemed  to  be 
calling,  "  Come  on !  Come !  out  to  our  wide  waters 
that  sweep  away  through  the  skylines  to  the  great 
shores  where  the  lights  of  the  cities  gleam." 

"  I'll  see  the  great  world  again !  I'll  gaze  into  the 
lovely  eyes  of  memory — the  long,  long  memory ! 
0  Atua,  0  Pele  !  "  she  cried  ;  and  then  she  remembered 
— she  felt  a  great  shame  sweep  through  her,  and  immedi- 
ately called  out,  "  0  great  White  God,  God  of  my  child- 
hood, God  of  the  white  men,  and  his  God ! — he  of  long 


SESTRINA  237 

years  ago."  Then  she  sighed  and  shed  tears.  "  Have 
they  forgotten  me  ?  Has  he  forgotten  ?  No,  'tis  I 
who  forgot !  I  who  have  been  faithful  in  the  soul 
through  all  the  long  years.  0  God  of  my  childhood, 
you  !  you  know  that  I  have  been  faithful  in  my  soul  to 
the  past!" 
Ah,  sad,  beautiful  Sestrina. 


Day  by  day  Hawahee  toiled  over  the  raft.  He  had 
gathered  many  boards  together  and  had  fixed  them  side 
by  side  with  the  Belle  Isle's  old  hatchway.  With  native 
dexterity  he  had  lashed  each  plank  to  the  deck  and  had 
framed  a  little"  bulwark.  Then  he  made  small  lockers. 

"  What  are  they  for  ?  "  said  Sestrina,  who  kept 
running  to  and  fro  like  a  happy  child,  giving  all  the 
help  she  could  to  Hawahee  as  he  toiled  over  the  craft 
that  was  to  take  them  on  that  great  voyage  out  into 
the  trackless  seas. 

"It  is  for  food  and  water,  for  we  must  take  much 
water  and  food  with  us,  Sestra,"  said  Hawahee  as  he 
dropped  his  rough  tools  and  gazed  across  the  infinite 
expanse  of  tropic  ocean.  No  wonder  he  sighed  as  he 
gazed  on  the  dim  wastes  and  the  encircling  skylines, 
the  only  dim,  blue  hope  of  that  wide  world  of  water. 

"  That  will  do  for  to-day,  Sestra.  I  am  tired  and 
will  go  and  bathe  in  the  lagoon  and  so  refresh  my  body," 
said  Hawahee  as  he  dropped  his  tools. 

"  So  am  I,  Hawahee,"  murmured  Sestrina. 

In  a  few  moments  they  had  both  passed  up  the  beach 
and  had  retired  to  their  separate  huts.  They  had 
already  had  their  supper,  for  Hawahee  was  in  a  hurry 
to  get  the  raft  finished,  and  so  had  made  up  his  mind 
to  work  till  sunset  each  night. 

Directly  Sestrina  had  passed  out  of  sight,  Hawahee 
went  down  to  the  lagoon  to  bathe.  In  a  few  moments 
he  stood  in  the  cool  water.  His  heart  was  full  of  happi- 
ness in  the  thought  that  a  chance  of  a  new  life  did  lie 


238  SESTRINA 

before  him  and  Sestrina.  Then  he  stood  gazing  towards 
the  aftermath  of  the  dead  day  as  though  he  had  suddenly 
died,  and  in  some  inexplicable  way  still  stood  rigid, 
upright,  with  the  water  to  his  waist,  staring  at  the  sky  ! 
What  had  done  this,  brought  this  awful  change  to 
Hawahee's  face  and  eyes  ?  It  was  nothing  more  than 
a  stinging  feeling  in  his  back  where  the  salt  water  was 
smarting.  He  gave  a  gasp  and  partially  recovered. 
Then  he  placed  his  tappa-robe  on,  pulling  it  over  his 
shoulders  in  a  mechanical  way  as  though  he  was  moving 
in  a  dream. 

Walking  along  the  sand  bank  of  the  lagoon,  he  pulled 
the  robe  down  and  stared  again  on  his  imaged  shoulder. 
It  was  true  enough,  no  mistake !— a  great  leper  patch 
had  broken  out !  In  his  grief  he  ran  up  the  shore,  and, 
throwing  himself  on  the  ground,  beat  his  hands  and  fore- 
head on  the  stones  till  they  were  stained  with  blood. 
For  several  minutes  the  nobility  of  bis  character  faded 
away  and  left  him  a  frenzied,  savage  fanatic. 

"  Wahine  !  Sestra  !  come  to  me  !  I  am  clean  !  I 
am  clean  !  "  he  wailed  as  he  realised  what  the  discovery 
meant  to  him,  and  to  the  woman  he  really  loved — unless 
he  deceived  her,  told  her  nothing  about  his  dreadful 
discovery.  In  a  few  moments  the  natural  bravery  and 
nobleness  of  his  soul  come  to  his  assistance.  He  rose 
to  his  feet,  and  lifting  his  poor  hands  to  the  sky,  called 
in  terrible  fervour  and  anguish  to  the  old  gods  of  his 
boyhood.  He  trembled  as  he  stood  there,  staring  first 
out  to  sea  and  then  in  the  direction  of  Sestrina's  home- 
stead. But  all  was  silent,  Sestrina  had  heard  nothing. 
The  next  moment  he  had  rushed  down  the  slope  ;  he 
was  on  his  way  to  the  heiau  (temple).  It  was  a  terribly 
sad  sight  as  he  stood  in  the  gloom  of  that  big  pagan 
aisle  and  with  lifted,  bloodstained  hands,  appealed  to 
the  goddess  Pele,  Atua  and  Kauhilo.  But  their  immut- 
able sightless  eyes  and  hollow  ears  brought  no  comfort 
to  the  stricken  man's  soul  as  the  wide,  reddish  shell- 
mouths  moaned  while  the  wind  swept  down  the  valley. 


SESTRINA  239 

Only  the  goddess  Pele  seemed  to  gaze  from  her  sombre 
immobility  in  sorrow  upon  the  miserable  man  as  he 
stood  there  with  lifted  hands  and  grief-distended  eyes. 
In  the  flood  of  bitterness  that  came  to  him,  he  ran  from 
the  presence  of  those  heathen  deities  and  knelt  under 
the  palms  just  outside  the  temple.  "  0  White  God  of 
Langi,  Maker  of  the  seas,  the  stars,  the  birds  and  all  the 
wonders  and  beauty  of  the  universe,  and  the  wondrous 
clays  which  I  have  moulded  into  the  great  gods  of 
shadowland,  be  merciful  unto  me,  a  poor  heathen 
untutored  savage  of  the  wilds."  And  as  he  moaned 
on  in  this  wise  the  night  winds  caught  the  words  and 
swept  them  away !  Again  he  rose  to  his  feet,  and, 
running  a  few  steps,  sought  the  spot  where  the  stone 
image  that  resembled  Sestrina  stood.  He  wrung  his 
hands  in  despair  as  he  bowed  his  head  before  the  moulded 
grace  of  the  perfect,  veined  limbs.  Then  he  turned  his 
head  and  hid  his  face  in  his  hands.  A  great  fear  had 
swept  into  his  soul ;  he  felt  that  he  might  be  unable  to 
control  his  passions,  so  great  was  the  beauty  of  the  figure 
before  him.  "  Sestra,  I  am  like  to  betray  thee !  I, 
Hawahee  the  leper,  might  make  thee  unclean.  I,  who 
love  thy  shape,  might  cast  the  reality  of  your  loveliness 
as  a  loathsome  object  into  the  grave  by  the  side  of 
Rohana,  Steno  and  the  rest."  In  the  terror  of  his 
thoughts  and  the  possibility  that  he  had  lost  Sestrina 
for  ever,  he  leaned  forward  to  embrace  the  passionless 
grace  of  that  symbolical  form  which  his  imagination 
had  incarnated,  endowed  with  his  soul's  ideas.  In  the 
agony  of  his  unsatisfied  imagination,  he  embraced  the 
air.  The  winds  wafted  the  rich  odours  of  the  bread- 
fruits to  his  nostrils.  Again  he  leaned  forward  and 
gazed  through  the  dusk  with  burning  eyes  at  that 
beautiful  figure  which  he  had  fashioned  with  the  warm 
fingers  of  a  wondrous  creative  impulse,  till  he  had 
actually  robed  the  stone  form  with  the  glamour  of  a 
beauty  almost  divine.  He  forgot  his  gods.  Only  the 
shape  appealed  to  his  staring  eyes,  the  divinity,  the 


240  SESTRINA 

spiritual  light  of  his  soul  strangely  seemed  to  fade. 
What  had  happened  ?  Had  he  drunk  too  deeply  of 
the  pagan's  starry  heavens,  of  the  foaming  sunsets  and 
Sestrina's  eyes  ?  Was  it  only  sorrow,  that  almighty 
alchemist  who  transmutes  mortal  dross  into  purest  gold, 
that  had  saved  Hawahee  and  Sestrina  from  falling  into 
the  lap  of  atheistical  luxury  and  warm-scented  dreams  ? 

"  Sestra,  0  love  of  mine  !  Wahine,  thou  whom  I  have 
fashioned  from  the  moaning  ocean's  coral  stone,  teach  me 
to  be  brave,  I  am  a  leper,  unclean !  unclean !  "  he  wailed. 

The  sight  of  the  form's  graceful  beauty,  the  parted 
lips,  the  sensuous  curves  of  the  shape,  the  symmetrical 
loveliness  of  the  outstretched  arm  and  the  hand  still 
holding  the  faded  flower,  overwhelmed  his  senses.  He 

sprang  towards  the  silent  shape .     His  material  self 

seemed  to  swoon  into  the  grace  of  soulless  stone !  He 
gave  a  startled  cry !  Lo,  the  figure's  outstretched  arm 
had  softly  closed,  held  Hawahee  in  the  grip  of  a  passion- 
ate clasp !  His  impassioned  lips  met  the  lips  of  the 
shape — they  were  warm  ;  the  bosom  heaved !  The 
lips  spoke  :  "  Hawahee,  thou  shalt  worship  me.  I,  at 
least,  care  not  for  leprosy,  or  for " 

"  Sestra  !  your  arms — your  arms  are  warm  !  The 
eyes  I  made  have  light  as  beautiful  as  the  stars  in  them. 
0  Pele,  what  hast  thou  done  ? — forgive  !  forgive !  " 

"  Hawahee  !  save  me,  the  light  fades — I  fall !  " 
wailed  the  trembling  statue. 

The  giant  banyans  sighed.  The  heathen  worshipper 
of  stone  folded  the  image  of  his  dreams  to  his  breast. 
His  astounded,  overwhelmed  senses  swam  before  the 
bright  gaze  of  eyes  that  pierced  his  soul  with  darts  of 
fire.  The  same  wind  that  made  the  deep  voices  of  the 
gods  loudly  moan,  blew  shadowy  hair  and  gossamer 
drapery  about  his  form  and  face.  Their  lips  met  in  the 
sting  of  passion  and  some  fear !  Like  fright  the  winds 
moaned  as  the  beautifully  moulded  arms  clutched  the 
worshipper,  and  the  faded  flower  that  had  once  adorned 
Sestrina's  hair,  dropped  from  the  hand  to  the  forest  floor. 


SESTRINA  241 

Even  the  winds  stayed  their  breath  as  though  in  grief 
over  mortal  frailty  and  sorrow. 

***** 

(f  Sestra !  where  are  you  ?  "  said  Hawahee,  as  he 
groped  about  as  though  lost  in  the  dark  of  his  own  mind. 
He  realised !  He  broke  away.  He  fled  down  the 
valley,  and  like  one  demented  vanished  in  the  glooms  of 
the  banyans. 

And  Sestrina,  who  through  her  subterfuge  had  heard 
the  truth  about  Hawahee's  sorrow  and  grief  over  his 
leprosy,  fell  prostrate  to  the  ground  again,  and  beating 
her  hands  amongst  the  flowers,  moaned  and  wept.  The 
next  minute  she  rose,  and  running  into  the  shadows, 
knelt  before  the  stone  shape,  the  rival  she  had  outwitted, 
and  cried  like  a  child  before  its  cold,  passionless  purity. 


CHAPTER  VII 

NOTWITHSTANDING  the  sorrow  of  the  night,  of 
mortal  frailty  and  grief,  the  door  of  the  East 
slowly  opened,  and  dawn  in  silvery  sandals  stood  on 
the  threshold  of  those  remote  sailless  seas.  The  birds 
sang  sweetly  as  the  last  troop  of  sentinel  stars  set 
out  for  home.  Hawahee  had  long  since  stolen  into 
the  solitude  of  his  hut  and  Sestrina  in  tears  to  her 
chamber.  Nothing  was  changed.  The  sun  rose  just 
the  same,  and  was  welcomed  by  that  great  philosopher, 
Rohana,  with  cynical  cries  of  "  0  Atua  !  0  Pele  !  ee  ! 
Wahinmme  !  0  Haw-wah-he  cah  cah  whoo  he  !  "  The 
warm-coloured  flowers,  red  and  white  hibiscus  on  the 
hill-side*;,  sent  voiceful,  rich  odours  to  each  other's 
rouged  tiny  faces  and  sparkling  eyes.  The  whole  isle, 
set  in  those  illimitable  seas,  sighed  over  the  tropical 
mystery  of  brooding  loveliness  and  over  the  sorrowing 
heads  of  the  torn  hearts  of  the  two  lone  castaways. 

The  isle  itself  resembled  the  vast  brooding  soul  of 
the    universe,    of    mortal    aspirations,    hope,    prayer, 

Q 


242  SESTRINA 

anguish  and  faith.  The  giant  trees,  haunted  by  multi- 
tudes of  bright  and  sombre- plumaged  birds,  stirred  and 
moaned  to  the  sea  winds  like  a  mighty,  dark-branched 
brain  of  brooding  beauty  and  deep  murmuring  musical 
thought. 

Sestrina  saw  signs  of  Hawahee's  secret  anguish  on 
his  face  when  he  appeared  before  her  in  the  broad  day- 
light. The  melancholy  gaze  of  his  eyes  filled  her  heart 
with  intense  sorrow. 

"  Aloah,  wahine,"  he  murmured,  as  she  swiftly  turned 
her  face  away  and  threw  the  peeled  Tcalo8  (sweet  potatoes) 
into  the  cooking  pot.  "  Hide  not  thy  face,  wahine,  but 
tell  me  of  the  night  just  passed." 

"  Cah  whoo  0  Pele  !  "  shouted  Rohana  as  he  stretched 
his  neck  and  head  forward  as  though  he  resented  such 
words  and  that  stern  gaze  at  his  beloved  mistress. 

But  still  Sestrina  remained  silent.  Hawahee's  face 
softened. 

"  Sestra,  thou  hast  outwitted  the  gods  and  their 
faithful  servant  too  ! — or  did  I  dream  some  madness  in 
my  sorrow  last  night  ?  " 

"  One  who  worships  a  woman  of  stone  might  dream 
any  mad  thing !  "  said  Sestrina  as  she  threw  a  kalos 
(sWeet  potato)  in  the  pot  and  splashed  the  hot  water 
over  her  rami  and  Hawahee  as  well !  But  Hawahee 
was  not  deceived,  he  easily  saw  through  Sestrina's 
simulated  wrath  with  which  she  sought  to  hide  her 
embarrassment — and  shame  !  He  heard  the  tears,  the 
choking  sob  in  the  voice. 

"  Here  is  the  faded  flower  that  you  dropped,  my 
wahine." 

Tears  were  in  his  own  voice  as  Sestrina  placed  the 
flower  to  her  lips  and  replaced  it  in  her  hair. 

"  Sestra,  fear  not,  the  raft  is  nearly  ready.  The 
gods  may  give  us  happiness  yet,"  he  murmured.  Then,  as 
a  sudden  burst  of  passion  came  to  him,  he  said,  "  Sestra, 
beloved  wahine,  thou  art  more  to  me  than  all  the  gods 
of  shadowland  ;  we  will  seek  the  great  waters  together." 


SESTEINA  243 

The  next  moment  he  had  strolled  across   the   yam 
patch  and  disappeared. 

Directly  Hawahee  had  gone,  Sestrina  lifted  her  hands  in 
thankfulness  to  the  sky.  "  0  God,  I  thank  thee,"  she  said. 
Hawahee's  words  had  warmed  her  chilled  heart.  She  had 
lain  in  her  bed  in  anguish  of  mind,  thinking  that  now  the 
leprosy  had  broken  out  afresh  he  would  not  seek  to  leave 
the  isle  on  the  raft.  "  Yet,  he  has  put  the  flag  out  again," 
she  thought.  And  as  she  thought  she  ran  to  the  hill- 
top and  stared  toward  the  shore.  True  enough,  there  on 
the  top  of  the  palm,  that  stood  on  the  promontory's 
edge,  streamed  the  old  tappa  distress  flag,  calling  silently 
to  the  skylines  for  help  !  For  Hawahee,  on  discovering 
his  fresh  leper  patch,  had  put  the  flag  out  again. 

Sestrina  gazed  long  and  with  deep  misery  on  that  flag 
as  it  flew  from  the  dead  palm  top.  "  He  will  still  risk 
the  voyage  on  the  oceans !  He  will  not  alter  his  mind,  we 
will  float  away  on  the  wide  waters  together  and  receive 
the  boundless  mercy  of  Him  who  made  the  stars." 

So  mused  Sestrina,  and  strange  as  it  may  seem,  she 
felt  intensely  happy.  What  cared  she  for  leprosy  ? 
She  had  dwelt  so  Jong  in  its  dreadful  shadow  that  it  had 
become  an  integral  part  of  the  universe  around  her. 
Besides,  who  was  better  than  Hawahee  ?  Had  he  not 
watched  over  her  through  the  weary  years  and  saved 
her  from  the  grave  many,  many  times  ?  Had  he  not 
sat  by  her  bedside  when  she  was  ill  with  fever,  attending 
her  with  religious  care  and  tenderness  ?  "  Ah,  Hawahee ! 
Poor  Hawahee  !  "  she  murmured. 

Hawahee  had  quite  forgiven  her  for  her  deception 
when  she  had  placed  herself  behind  the  temple,  had 
removed  her  stone-shape  back  into  the  shadows  and 
had  then  stood  in  its  place — awaiting  Hawahee's  wor- 
ship !  She  had  told  him  straight  to  his  face  that  she 
had  no  fear  of  the  leprosy  "  What  matters,  so  long  as 
we  are  happy  for  a  little  while,  even  though  it  be  away 
on  the  hot  tropic  seas,  without  water  and  dying,  which 
you  tell  me  might  happen  ?  " 


244  SESTRINA 

As  Hawahee  listened  a  great  fire  burned  in  his  eyes,  and, 
unable  to  control  himself,  he  had  walked  rapidly  away. 

Two  days  had  passed  since  Hawahee  had  discovered 
the  new  leper  patch,  when  he  suddenly  walked  into  the 
kitchen  shelter,  and,  looking  straight  into  Sestrina's 
eyes,  said,  "  Sestra,  you  are  the  stars  of  the  sorrowing 
night,  and  the  light  of  the  great  day  to  me."  Then  he 
softly  pulled  her  form  close  to  his  own,  and  standing 
in  an  attitude  of  prayer,  stared  over  her  shoulder,  and 
gazed  out  to  sea.  Then  he  clasped  the  woman  passion- 
ately to  his  breast  and  pressed  one  long  kiss  on  her 
brow. 

Before  Sestrina  had  recovered  from  her  astonishment, 
he  had  abruptly  loosened  his  clasp  and  disappeared  under 
the  breadfruits  of  the  valley. 

Sestrina  guessed  nothing  of  the  terrible  battle  going 
on  in  Hawahee's  mind ;  how  his  body  was  wrenched 
with  pain  and  anguish  as  his  dual  personality,  the  two 
deadly  rivals  fought  for  supremacy  in  his  soul.  His 
better  self  had  knelt  before  the  spiritual  altar  of  his 
soul,  asking  the  gods  to  help  him  control  his  mortal 
desires.  Then  again  :  his  other  self  had  knelt  before 
the  altar  of  hia  body's  desire,  till  he  had  shouted  in  the 
passionate  throes  of  a  terrible  appeal,  beseeching  the 
goddess  Pele,  Atua  and  Kauhilo  to  destroy  his  better 
self !  to  touch  his  soul  with  the  darkness  which  loves 
to  degrade  the  thing  it  loves,  and  debase  friendship — 
yes,  so  that  he  might  revel  in  the  lust  and  desires  of  self. 

"  0  Pele,  goddess  of  blood  and  fire,  make  my  passions 
supreme  conqueror  over  those  spiritual  thoughts  that 
gave  this  human  heart  of  mine  the  priceless  solace,  the 
belief  in  honour  and  in  woman's  purity  and  the  White 
God's  boundless  mercy.  0  let  my  hungering  body  sin 
gloriously,  without  one  pang  of  remorse !  "  And  as 
the  frenzied  Hawaiian  pagan  cried  on,  he  suddenly 
remembered  the  warm,  thrilling  clasp  of  the  statuesque- 
shape  in  the  shadows  by  the  altar,  and  cried  out  in 
sorrow  unspeakable  :  "0  Atua,  I  have  fallen  before  the 


SESTRINA  245 

fire — her  beauty  tempted  me !  Have  I  seared  the  soul 
of  beauty,  and  scattered  the  flowers  of  her  pure  soul  into 
the  du?_t  ?— am  I  too  late  ?  Too  late  !  " 

So  cried  the  poor  Hawaiian  leper,  appealing  to  the 
blind,  deaf,  and  dumb  sky  as  he  knelt  before  his  shell- 
gods  again.  The  valley  echoed  the  cries  of  his  misery 
and  loud  lamentations  as  the  winds  swept  like  anger 
across  the  island's  trees,  taking  his  voice  on  its  hurrying 
wings  away  from  Sestrina's  ears.  And  still  he  raved 
on ;  the  swollen  veins  of  his  brow  standing  out  like 
whipcord  as  he  cried  :  "  0  Pele,  Kauhilo  and  Atua, 
let  me  be  as  Rohana,  Lupo  and  Steno  were,  so  that  I 
might  once  more  fold  her  I  love  to  this  breast,  and, 
caring  not  for  the  contagion,  hold  her  in  my  arms  and 
drink  in  the  ocean  of  happiness  through  my  satisfied 
desires  and  not  this  boundless  misery  born  of  my  bettei 
self !  H  I  am  to  die  and  mingle  with  the  dust,  why 
deny  me  the  joy  of  a  woman's  embrace  ?  Why  deny 
myself  that  which  I  have  surely  seen  in  the  hungry 
light  of  her  eyes,  telling  me  that  she  would  freely  give 
sooner  than  my  soul  should  burn  in  the  parching  fires 
of  thy  cruelty ,/  thy  monstrous  virtue,  0  Kauhilo !  0 
Pele,  0  Atua,  hear  me,  I,  Hawahee,  the  faithful :  O 
make  me  dark  and  cruel,  the  fierce  light  of  pangless  sin 
dwelling  in  my  soul  that  I  may  be  happy  in  the  joy  of 
brief  desire  and  not  hating  thee  in  my  misery  !  " 

So  did  the  Hawaiian  appeal  from  the  nobility  of  his 
soul  to  his  pagan  gods !  When  he  rose  to  his  feet  and 
lifted  his  hands  to  the  sky,  they  were  blood-stained,  and 
the  hot  blood  ran  down  his  face. 

While  Hawahee's  soul  was  plunged  in  misery,  Sestrina 
calmly  went  about  her  domestic  duties,  her  lips  singing 
an  old  song.  It  was  a  song  that  reminded  her  of  a  world 
somewhere  far  beyond  that  vast  solitude,  of  an  isle 
which  gave  shelter  to  its  castaway  mortality  that  con- 
sisted of  a  pagan's  noble  soul  fighting  against  fate,  a 
moulting  cockatoo,  and  Sestrina's  own  soul's  budding 
hopes.  It  was  only  the  falling  shadow  of  approaching 


246  SESTRINA 

night  that  awakened  her  sorrow ;  opened  her  eyes  to 
the  beauty  and  wonder  of  her  existence.  And,  as  she 
stood  by  the  shore  watching  the  sunset  fade,  her  eyes 
saw  the  visible  universe  of  fading  light  in  the  wonder  of 
its  true  perspective.  She  realised  that  she  roamed  and 
sorrowed  in  some  vast  crystal  of  a  dream,  where  the 
seas  dashed  and  the  trees  waved  by  magical  shores. 
And  as  she  glanced  up  at  the  skies,  Time's  sad  hand  flung 
the  shadowy  bridal  robe  over  the  bed  of  Night,  as 
Poetry's  womb  stirred  in  the  tremendous  pang  that 
sighed  her  thousand  thousand  children — the  stars  that 
stared  in  wonder  from  the  wide  window  of  the  dimly  lit 
heavens. 

She  sighed,  then  stole  up  the  shore  and  entered  her 
lone  dwelling.  There,  in  her  chamber,  she  knelt  in 
fervent  prayer,  appealing  to  the  gods  which  Hawahee 
had  taught  her  to  worship,  enabling  her  eyes  to  see  the 
splendour,  the  beauty  and  sorrow  of  Creation. 

Notwithstanding  all  that  had  happened,  all  that 
troubled  her,  deep  in  her  fatalistic  heart  a  gleam  of  hope 
remained.  She  looked  like  Beauty's  self  kneeling  there, 
as  she  prayed  in  her  hushed  chamber.  Alas !  she 
might  easily  have  been  some  castaway  representation 
of  a  sad,  lovely  Pandora  dwelling  on  a  lonely  isle  of  the 
wine-dark  seas  of  the  boundless  Pacific.  Just  as  the 
Greek  goddess  brought  Promethean  fires  from  Heaven, 
and  ills  to  destroy  peace  of  mind,  Sestrina  had  brought 
a  fatal  casket  of  love  and  passion  to  that  isle's  sole 
humanity — Hawahee's  sorrowing  heart.  She  too  was 
fatally  All-gifted.  Some  far-seeing  Aphrodite  of  inscrut- 
able spite  had  robed  her  with  beauty's  charm  only  that 
she  might  stir  the  heart  of  man  to  rebellious  thoughts, 
turning  his  dreams  from  the  gods.to  misery,  and  plunging 
her  own  peace  of  mind  into  the  clepths  of  despair,  Hope 
alone  remaining.  Yes,  Sestrina  had  also  brought  the 
blessings  of  the  gods  to  the  arcadian  loveliness  of  that 
tropical  isle,  only  to  open  the  casket  full  of  the  gifts  of 
Heaven,  to  see  them  escape — fly  away  into  the  darkness. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

I  am  the  sad  composer  of  all  time  ; 

The  ocean's  deep  orchestral  boom — my  own  t 

The  singing  birds  and  winds  of  every  dime 

Without  my  ears  would  be  as  songless  stone. 

The  stars  will  cease  to  sparkle  at  the  last, 

When  fades  my  mem'ry  of  the  ages  past, 

And  God  falls  from  pale  reason's  shadow-throne. 

THREE  days  had  passed  since  Hawahee's  terrible 
appeal  to  the  gods.  Sestrina  stood  in  the 
shelter  of  her  kitchen  singing  happily.  The  raft  was 
finished.  She  and  Hawahee  were  about  to  embark, 
to  seek  the  future  on  the  unknown  seas  around  their 
island  home.  "  Oh,  how  happy  I  feel !  We  are  going 

out  to  the  seas  ;  the  gods  will  be !  " 

She  dropped  her  platter  full  of  cooked  fish — a  terrible 
cry  had  reached  her  ears !  Whose  cry  was  it  ?  She 
stood  trembling  from  head  to  feet.  Hawahee  had  gone 
a  few  moments  before  for  his  morning  swim  in  the  sea, 
just  behind  the  coral  reefs  where  he  would  be  hidden 
by  the  shore's  palms.  Why  had  he  given  so  despairing 
a  cry  ?  Sestrina  rushed  from  the  palavana.  Her  feet 
skimmed  the  sands  without  noise  as  she  ran  out  to  the 
edge  of  the  promontory.  She  stood  perfectly  still,  as 
though  death  had  stricken  her  stiff  with  terror  while 
in  an  attitude  of  upright  despair.  Her  face  expressed 
terror  in  loneliness.  Her  outblown  hair,  and  lips  apart, 
seemed  to  voice  the  wail  of  all  unknown  sorrows,  her 
hands,  clasped  tightly  together,  the  symbol  of  all  human 
appeal ;  her  wide  open  staring  eyes  all  dire  disaster 
beneath  the  sun  !  For,  as  she  reached  the  promontory's 
edge,  she  had  seen  two  hands  toss  up  visible  for  a  second 
above  the  calm  glassy  surface  of  the  sea,  then  swiftly 
disappear ! 

No  thought  came  to  her  as  to  the  cause  of  this  calamity. 
Whether  Hawahee  had  been  seized  by  a  shark,  or  cramp, 
or  had  deliberately  tied  a  lump  of  coral  stone  to  his  feet 

247 


248  SESTRINA 

ere  lie  took  his  last  dive  off  the  promontory's  edge,  waa 
something  that  never  puzzled  Sestrina.  He  had  gone  ! 
that  was  enough  to  know !  Even  the  huge  sea-birds 
seemed  to  hover  near  and  gaze  with  startled  eyes  as  she 
stood  there — immovable,  staring  in  the  awful  fascina- 
tion of  hopelessness  at  that  spot ! 

All  day  long  she  rushed  to  and  fro  to  the  promontory's 
edge  calling  "  Hawahee  !  Hawahee !  "  and  weeping. 

"  Tis  coming,  the  night,  the  stars,  the  moon,  I  cannot 
stay !  "  she  cried  as  she  spoke  with  pagan  grief  to  the 
ocean,  over  which  the  first  pale  stars  were  creeping. 

She  ran  down  to  the  raft.  It  was  floating  within 
the  entrance  of  the  creek  by  the  reefs.  One  push  and 
it  would  go  seaward. 

Darkness  swept  over  the  seas.  Sestrina  stared  in 
fright  up  the  shore.  She  was  alone !  Her  half- 
demented  mind  peopled  the  shadows  with  unknown 
terrors.  Indescribable  loneliness  smote  her  heart  like 
a  blow.  She  gazed  up  at  the  stars  in  anguished  appeal. 
But  the  stars  only  seemed  to  gaze  in  some  immutable 
sorrow  and  hopeless  silence  that  thundered  nightmare- 
sounds  into  her  soul.  Her  grief -stricken  mind  magnified 
the  solitude — if  that  could  be.  She  groped  about  the 
bamboo  thickets  and  puli  ferns  as  she  ran  up  the  shore. 
Such  was  her  loneliness,  that  she  eagerly  sought  the  com- 
panionship of  the  lepers'  graves  on  the  plateau.  She 
ran  back  to  the  shore  and  screamed  for  Hawahee  again. 
The  echoes  of  her  despairing  voice  awakened  the  roosting 
cockatoos  and  strange  birds  ;  up,  up  they  flew,  shrieking 
discordantly  in  the  darkness  as  they  dashed  against  each 
other  in  their  blindness.  The  demented  woman  looked 
like  a  wraith  calling  the  dead  as  she  wrung  her  hands  and 
ran  along  the  shore,  calling  "  Hawahee !  Lupo !  Rohana ! 
Steno  !  come  to  me  !  "  her  mind  so  distraught  that  she 
reverted  to  the  companionship  of  the  dead  lepers. 

The  lagoons  along  the  shore  and  the  calm  ocean  before 
her  shone  with  the  ethereal  gleams  of  a  thousand  thousand 
stars.  The  trade  winds  that  commenced  to  blow  every 


SESTRINA  249 

night,  began  to  softly  sigh.  She  had  made  up  her  mind 
to  go  seaward  on  the  raft. 

Suddenly  she  thought  of  her  own  shape  standing 
under  the  palms  by  the  shell  temple.  She  turned  round 
and  stared  inland,  a  startled  gleam  in  her  eyes — she 
would  seek  its  companionship !  The  impulse  to  gaze 
on  that  shape  which  had  been  moulded  from  the  dreams 
of  the  dead  Hawahe'e,  made  her  stand  breathless  in 
*ome  terrible  ecstasy  of  despair.  Her  sad,  fallible 
mortal  intellect,  groping  in  its  boundless  dark,  had 
clutched  a  straw  on  the  ocean  of  hopeless  misery.  In 
some  vague,  mad  fancy  of  the  brain  she  had  thought 
to  crush,  to  outwit  destiny's  cruel  spite,  to  still  possess 
the  companinship  of  Hawahee's  mortal  conception  of 
herself  in  cold  stone.  The  next  second  the  impulse  had 
vanished.  She  realised  that  the  shattered  mirror  of 
the  past  can  never  again  reflect  the  tender  glance  of 
loving  eyes.  She  knew  tL<.f  Hawahee's  conception  of 
the  sensuous  beauty  of  her  faultless  form  had  vanished 
with  the  tossing  of  his  hands  from  his  ocean  grave. 

The  thought  of  her  stone-shape  standing  under  the 
island's  trees,  suddenly  filled  her  soul  with  boundless 
misery.  She  detested  it !  In  her  terror-stricken 
imagination  she  could  see  the  full,  perfect  lips,  the  lovely 
lines  of  the  bosom  and  the  passion-charmed  curves  and 
pose  of  the  whole  form,  clearer  than  had  she  run  into 
the  valley  and  stood  before  it.  She  remembered 
Hawahee's  embrace  of  that  unresponsive  shape,  and  how 
he  had  breathed  thrilling  words  when  he  had  clasped 
her  form  and  found  it  warm  and  impassioned  as  his 
own.  Standing  there,  she  tore  her  tappa  blouse  apart, 
and,  gazing  down  on  her  bosom,  longed  for  a  knife  to 
stab ;  then  thumped  and  bruised  the  flesh  in  some  agony ! 

"  Jesu  !  God,  Pete  !  Pere  Chaco,  forgive  me  !  "  Her 
voice  echoed  to  the  distant  valley,  coming  faintly  back 
as  though  vast  night  in  sympathy  repeated  her  despair- 
ing cries.  Again  she  cried,  "  Save  the  soul  of  my  lost 
girlhood  and  bury  my  womanhood  for  ever  deep  in  these 


250  SESTRINA 

everlasting  seas  !  "  That  was  Sestrina's  last  appeal  to 
the  hollow  seabound-night,  whereof  she  was  the  lone 
mortality,  lonely  as  God  before  creation. 

Standing  there,  trembling  in  fright,  she  stared  sea- 
ward, afraid  to  glance  behind  her.  Her  hands  were 
outstretched,  her  face  slightly  raised  so  that  her  eyes 
could  stare  on  the  horizon's  stars.  She  resembled  some 
emblematical  figure  of  mortal  despair,  with  lips  apart, 
breathing  a  prayer  to  the  winds  of  the  universe.  The 
religious  emotion,  the  spiritual  fervour  of  her  soul  had 
brought  to  her  mind  the  magic  flash  which  so  often  had 
inspired  Hawahee  and  herself  with  the  wonderful  com- 
pelling power  that  had  enabled  them  to  send  their 
thoughts  roaming  the  universe.  Again  and  again  she 
felt  the  visionary  beauty  of  that  higher  life  which  feeds 
the  soul  of  sorrow  and  brings  the  light  divine  which 
enables  humanity  to  become  conscious  of  God  and 
elevates  the  human  mind.  Again  and  again  she  appealed 
to  the  heavens,  asking  that  her  thoughts  might  fly 
back  to  the  memory  of  her  girlhood — that  Tie  might 
know  she  had  been  faithful  in  her  soul  to  him  through 
the  years  of  sorrow.  She  inclined  her  head  and  listened. 
No  answer  came.  Only  the  restless  moaning  of  the  ocean 
and  the  melancholy  sighing  of  the  bending  shore  palms 
whispered  to  her  ears.  And  as  she  stood  there  with  wide 
open  eyes,  her  hair  outblown,  she  might  easily  have  been 
some  terrible,  but  lovely  representation,  some  symbol  of 
all  mortal  sorrow,  all  broken  hopes,  all  shattered  dreams 
and  blighted  simple  faith ;  some  perfect  chiselled  goddess 
face  telling  of  woman's  perfect  trust  and  love  immortal, 
staring  with  cold,  bright  eyes  across  the  infinite  seas ! 
Her  head  fell  forward  ;  her  arms  dropped  to  her  sides. 

Without  a  cry  she  jumped  on  the  raft.  She  cast  it 
adrift — away,  away,  anywhere  from  that  despairing 
loneliness !  Every  tree,  every  reef  and  familiar  spot 
filled  her  heart  with  a  sickening  terror  as  she  gazed 
shoreward  for  the  last  time.  Slowly  the  raft  drifted, 
and  slowly  the  shadows  of  the  shoreline  receded. 


SESTRINA  251 

Suddenly  she  struggled  to  drift  shoreward  again.  She 
beat  the  water  with  her  hands  for  she  had  no  paddles — 
she  had  heard  a  faint,  sepulchral  voice,  coming  from  the 
deep  shadows  up  the  shore,  from  the  direction  of  her 
sile'nt  dwelling.  "  0  Atua,  0  Pele  !  "  it  had  cried — it 
was  the  aged  cockatoo,  Rohana,  calling  for  his  evening 
meal.  But  still  the  raft  drifted  out  on  the  relentless 
tide  of  unchangeful  circumstance.  For  a  moment  she 
lay  prostrate  in  grief  over  her  deserted  bird.  The  next 
minute  she  had  jumped  to  her  feet,  wringing  her  hands 
in  despair.  She  placed  her  fingers  to  her  ears,  as  slowly 
and  mournfully  came  those  sounds,  stealing  over  the 
silence  of  the  ocean — the  temple  gods  had  moaned 
aloud  !  The  terror-stricken  woman  heard  those  solemn 
shell  mouths  calling  her ;  she  heard  some  appeal  in 
their  deep,  moaning  voices,  asking  her  not  to  desert 
them,  leave  them  alone  in  the  great  solitude  of  the 
valley  of  the  island's  lonely  hills,  set  in  endless  oceans. 
As  the  raft  drifted  out  to  the  silent,  starlit  seas,  the 
moaning  voices  became  fainter  and  fainter. 

The  castaway  soon  prayed  for  death.  But  death  does 
not  come  easily  to  those  who  dwell  in  its  shadow.  She  had 
neither  food  nor  water  on  the  raft.  She  had  cast  herself 
adrift,  caring  not  where  the  mighty  tides  might  take  her. 

Day  came.  The  hot  sunlight  swept  the  silent  tropic 
seas.  Nothing  but  illimitable  skylines  surrounded  the 
raft  as  it  floated  adrift  on  the  burning  waters — a  tiny 
world  of  floating  grief  and  misery  unutterable,  its  whole 
humanity  a  fragile  form,  speechless  with  thirst,  its 
whole  breath  of  life  and  creed,  tossing  hands  appealing 
to  the  great  dumb,  blind,  earless  tropic  sky  ! 

Night  came.  The  vast  tomb  whereon  the  living 
dead  moaned  and  tossed,  no  longer  had  the  brassy  glare 
of  the  day  over  it,  but  was  covered  with  a  mighty  slab, 
bright  with  a  million  stars.  Then  the  first  great  shadow 
of  death  crept  over  her  brain.  It  came  like  a  lovely 
dream,  devoid  of  pain  and  anguish,  a  dream  full  of 
infinite  hope.  She  even  smiled  as  she  dreamed  on  and 


252  SESTRINA 

thought  she  heard  some  one  climbing  up  the  grape-vine 
below  her  casement  in  Port-au-Prince.  And  as  she 
murmured  the  old  names,  memories  brought  ineffable 
peace  t'o  her  soul  as  the  raft  drifted  away  for  ever,  fading 
into  the  vastnesses  of  the  unknown  seas. 


Sunset  still  lingered  on  the  skyline  across  the  English 
hills,  as  a  man  gazed  from  the  latticed  window  of  his 
study  that  faced  the  Channel  cliffs.  He  was  watching 
the  idly  napping  crows  fade  away  into  the  crimson- 
streaked  western  glow.  Why  did  the  sight  of  the 
distant  firs  and  dark  pines  and  the  undulating  grey  hills 
so  strangely  influence  him  ? 

Some  one  softly  opened  the  door  and  said,  "  Would 
you  like  to  see  her  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  he  responded  as  he  turned  his  head  and 
gazed  on  the  speaker,  who  thereupon  closed  the  door 
and  departed.  Then  a  pale-faced  woman  softly  entered 
the  room.  She  carried  a  swaddled  child  in  her  arms. 
It  was  Royal  Clensy's  first-born. 

"  Why  call  her  Sestrina  ?  It  is  a  strange  name  ; 
what  made  you  think  of  it,"  said  the  woman  as  she 
gazed  in  wonder  up  at  the  earnest  face  of  the  man. 

"  Oh,  nothing,  it's  the  name  of  some  one  I  knew 
abroad,  years  ago." 

The  man's  voice  had  become  strangely  soft  and 
tender.  Why  did  his  senses  swim  as  a  great  sorrow 
crept  over  his  heart  ?  He  tried  to  calm  himself  ;  then 
gazed  in  surprise  at  the  child's  eyes.  They  had  suddenly 
opened  wide,  had  looked  straight  into  his  own. 

"  She  has  dark  eyes,"  he  stammered  as  the  woman 
stared.  His  voice  shook.  Was  it  imagination  ?  Why 
did  the  child's  gaze  and  his  own  meet  as  though  in  the 
surprised  light  of  swift  recognition  ? 

The  woman  crept  from  the  room,  softly  closing  the 
door  behind  her. 

Royal  Clensy  stared  like  one  in  a  dream  through  the 


SESTRINA  253 

window-pane,  apparently  gazing  out  towards  the  distant 
seas.  "  Well,  of  all  the  world  of  women  the  child  re- 
minds me  of  her — Sestrina  !  "  he  muttered.  And  as  he 
gazed,  the  pale  hands  of  half-forgotten  romance  seemed 
to  scrape  up  and  down  the  window-pane.  He  threw  the 
lattice  wide  open.  Was  it  the  winds  that  caressed  his 
brow  as  the  rich  scent  of  the  wistaria  drifted  to  his  nos- 
trils, coming  like  the  scented  odours  from  orange  groves  ? 

"  Sestrina,  you — after  all  these  years !  '*  he  murmured. 

Then  he  sadly  smiled  as  he  stared  again  at  the  image 
of  the  two  stars  that  seemed  to  stare  up  from  the  bowl 
where  the  goldfish  swam,  as,  like  outblown  hair,  the 
leaves  of  the  wistaria  touched  his  face.  His  mind 
wandered,  went  far  away.  It  was  not  the  Channel 
cliffs  by  the  English  seas  that  he  saw  ;  he  was  gazing 
on  the  vast  solitude  of  tropic  seas,  and  knew  that  the 
voice  that  called  his  name  was  no  foolish  sound,  no 
freak  of  the  imagination.  He  felt  the  hot  tropic  wind 
touch  his  face.  He  saw  the  castaway's  raft  as  it  drifted 
on — on  towards  the  skylines  of  infinity.  The  great 
blinding  sun  shone  over  a  phantom  day.  He  saw 
the  silent,  huddled  form,  and  the  fluttering  rags  as  the 
hot  wind  blew,  revealing  the  bleached,  whitened  skeleton 
— the  relic  that  had  called  to  him ;  the  call  which  had 
roamed,  how  far  across  the  universe  before  he  heard  ? 
He  knew  the  truth.  Even  the  waves  seemed  to  put 
forth  their  hands  and  pluck  in  sorrow,  as  they  gently 
tossed  against  the  craft  which  bore  that  sad  burden 
of  all  his  soul's  conceptions  of  the  beautiful  on  the 
drought-swept  depths  of  the  past.  It  was  as  though  the 
ocean  felt  the  sorrow  of  it  all,  had  sent  her  children,  the 
waves,  that  they  might  push  the  fragile  freight  of  that 
lone  argosy  into  the  deep  calm  of  her  bosom  for  rest. 

The  vision  slowly  passed.  The  castaway's  raft 
became  as  shadowy  as  those  whitened  bones  of  old 
trust,  love  and  simple  faith,  as  it  faded  away  into  the 
great  dusk  of  the  starlit  tropic  seas — with  all  that  had 
once  been  the  beautiful  Sestrina. 


EPILOGUE 

NOT  many  years  ago,  a  strangely  rigged,  rakish- 
looking  brigantine  hugged  the  shore  of  a  lonely 
isle  of  the  remote  South  Pacific  Ocean.  The  skipper 
had  sighted  a  ragged  distress  signal  flag  flying  from 
the  top  of  a  dead  palm  tree  close  to  the  shore. 

"  Manana!"  exclaimed  the  half-caste,  sun-tanned 
boatswain  as  the  yellow-skinned,  mixed  crew  of  Spanish- 
Mexicans,  Yaquis,  and  Yucatan  sailors  walked  up  the 
shore  and  stumbled  across  the  old  kitchen. 

They  held  their  strange,  red-striped  tasselled  caps 
reverentially  in  their  hands  as  they  gazed  on  the  rotting 
mats  amd  calabashes,  the  mouldy  remnants  of  an 
artistically  weaved  tappa-skirt  and  torn  bodice  that 
lay  by  the  little  bunk  bed  in  a  hut  just  by.  On  a  small 
post's  crosswise  placed  rod  swung  a  tiny  bunch  of 
feathers  and  bone,  swinging  to  and  fro  to  the  sea  winds, 
like  some  sad  relic  of  Hope's  once  radiant  wings — it  was 
Rohana,  still  chained  to  his  perch !  Then  the  wild- 
looking  sailormen  strode  down  the  incline. 

"  Sapristi  !  "  cried  one  of  those  tawny,  sunburnt  men 
from  the  seas  in  a  startled  voice. 

The  huddled  crew  stood  just  within  the  portals  of  the 
pagan  cathedral-cavern,  gazing  on  the  wondrously 
fashioned  moaning  shell-organ  and  on  the  three  giant, 
clay  figures  :  Atua,  with  four  arms,  stood  on  the  left, 
the  extreme  right  arm  still  faithfully  reclining  on  Pele's 
left  shoulder ;  Kauhilo,  with  the  human  skull  on  his 
shoulder,  stood  on  the  right  of  the  goddess,  whose 
uncrumbling  hand  of  the  extreme  right  arm  still  gripped 
the  ivory  idol.  Their  sombre  faces  were  overgrown 
with  hirsute-like  moss,  the  ears  sprouting  delicate 

254 


SESTRINA  255 

hair-fern ;  but  the  big  curved-lipped  mouths  were 
smooth  and  perfect.  It  seemed  as  though  Time's  hand 
had,  in  some  melancholy  sympathy,  toiled  on  after 
Hawahee.  For,  as  they  stood  there  in  the  sombre 
solitude  of  that  cavern's  aisles,  mysteriously  expressing 
in  wondrous  carven  beauty  the  grandeur  of  paganism 
and  soulful  belief  in  a  merciful  omnipotence,  they  looked 
more  god-like  than  ever  ! 

"  Quien  sabe  ?  "  said  one  of  the  crew  as  they  stood 
staring  at  each  other. 

"  Ddl  'anima  !  "  exclaimed  another  in  an  awestruck 
voice,  as  two  of  the  sailors  walked  into  the  shadows  by 
the  altar  cavern  and  found  themselves  before  a  wonder- 
fully carven  figure  of  a  woman  ! 

The  exquisitely  chiselled  face  was  strangely  untouched 
by  the  hand  of  time.  The  wide-open  eyelids  still 
mystically  expressed  the  old  half-divine  sensuous 
charm  that  had  fed  the  hungry,  noble  soul  of  a  long 
dead  pagan.  It  was  Sestrina's  shape,  Hawahee's 
faith,  hope,  art  and  love  of  woman,  expressed  in  stone. 
A  tiny  blue-winged  bird  fluttered  from  the  hollow  of 
the  figure's  bosom  ;  it  had  built  its  nest  within.  There, 
under  the  bosom's  polished  fullness,  nestled  four  red- 
specked  eggs,  nestling  in  the  silent  eternity  that  was  to 
awaken  and  thrill  to-morrow's  leafy  boughs  with  music. 

As  the  astounded,  red-shirted  sailormen  crept  down 
the  shore  sands,  going  back  to  their  boat,  they  glanced 
swiftly  over  their  shoulders,  half  in  fright — they  could 
hear  the  calling  deep  bass  moans  of  the  deserted  gods. 
Just  as  time  enriches  the  music  of  a  violin,  age  had 
mellowed  the  voices  of  the  gods  till  they  gave  forth 
sounds  that  echoed  as  though  from  eternity.  Even 
that  rough,  piratical-looking  crew  of  the  brigantine 
Cruz  were  affected  as  they  heard  the  wailful,  soulful 
music  of  the  stone  figure,  of  the  lovely  shaped  sculptured 
woman  crying  in  the  isle's  solitude,  as  though  she  would 
tell  their  ears  that  sorrow  is  the  soul  of  infinity.  Those 
wondering  sa'lormeu  could  still  heat  her  voice  calling 


256  SESTRINA 

as  they  stood  on  deck,  and  the  melancholy  sounds  came 
drifting  across  the  lagoons  and  out  over  the  calm, 
deep-moving  waters  of  the  tropic  sea.  They  stared  in 
each  other's  eyes  in  wonder.  The  skipper  opened  hL 
bearded  mouth  and  yelled  a  great  oath.  Then  the 
yellowish  canvas  sail^  bellying  to  the  night  winds, 
sighed  sorrowfully  as  they  faded  away,  flying  south-west 
under  the  stars  of  the  Pacific. 


A    000558377    8 


